Kyminn's Way
by Raelynn Daria Mayne
Summary: Five years ago, Kyminn believed he would live his life as a small country Healer. Now, Valdemar wars with the Tedrels from without and an unknown foe from within. Dark whispers hint that someone is seeking out Gifted youngsters before they can be trained in their Gifts. Thrust into the thickets of intrigue, Kyminn struggles to find his way and somehow, find happiness.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N As always, the world and wonder of Velgarth are the sole property of Mercedes Lackey. I feel privileged that she has allowed us to explore it._

 _Kyminn languished for years in the back of my brain as a short story about a backwoods Healer who helps an injured Companion. I tried to craft it in a manner that matched the quality of the tales in the anthologies._

Si _x months later, my hopeful little short story has grown into two novel-sized tales and budded a third._

 _I am constantly amazed at where this has ended up and I thank each and every one of you who has followed these tales for your encouragement, feedback, and correction. Kyminn wouldn't be here without you._

 _Raelynn Daria Mayne_

Chapter 1

"Stand still! I swear Kyminn, you're worse than a small child waiting for the Midsummer parade!" Evin grinned and nudged Kyminn with an elbow to take the sting out his words.

Kyminn tried to produce a glower in reply, but failed. "I'm not fidgeting! I'm just resting my leg. I'm lame you know. The least you could have done was bring me a stool while we wait." It was honey-sweet and innocent.

Evin snorted. "Lame? Really? You seemed to have no problems keeping up with Renya in that game of dodge-tag at her birthday celebration yesterday."

Kyminn grinned at the memory. He'd arranged a small party for Renya and her friends to celebrate the occasion. Although she was, strictly speaking, a Healer Trainee, she was still a (now) ten-year-old child. Standing as he did as quasi-foster brother to the youngest Trainee, he'd thought it important to recognize that fact. The game of dodge-tag had been a lot of fun, with the participants lobbing balls of chalky rags at one another in an attempt to tag out all the members of the opposing team. Kyminn shifted his weight again. Dodge-tag was fun, but possibly a bit too strenuous for a fellow with a weak leg.

"How is she doing?" This time, Evin was more serious. While the Healers didn't coddle Renya, they did tend to keep a protective eye out for her. Her Gifts had emerged traumatically, when her family - along with most of their village - was slaughtered by Tedrels in their war against Valdemar. The then-nine year old had, unsurprisingly, had a difficult adjustment on her arrival at the Healer's Collegium.

"She's doing well." And she was. Kyminn and Renya had become good friends, initially because of their shared experiences of the Tedrel War, but it had developed into a solid brother-sister sort of friendship.

As Kyminn shifted again, Evin shook his head. "You really are as nervous as a cat, aren't you? This is only the first group of critically wounded who will be recovering here in Haven. There's going to be injured and escorts trickling in for the next few sennights."

A sigh. "I know. It's just that I left under such difficult circumstances. I was Avi's mentor, and I was assigned to help Delassia...I just want to make sure they're alright."

"Kyminn," and it was exasperated. "You were evacuated because you'd suffered serious physical and mental injury. It's not as though you wandered off to...go boating! Do you really think they're going to hold it against you?"

A faint reddening brushed across Kyminn's cheeks. "No. Well," he qualified, "I know they'll understand. I just want to see some of them and make sure they're alright. Make sure they know that _I'm_ alright."

Evin eyed his fellow Healer and gave a grudging nod. "Good. For a moment there, I thought you were about to succumb to the usual Healer's hubris of insisting you should be able to fix absolutely anything if you just try hard enough; and then getting frustrated when that proves impossible."

A snort. "Don't worry about me. I gave up trying to do the impossible ages ago. Haven't attempted it for at least a week now."

Evin left off teasing his colleague and left Kyminn to his restless waiting. The older Healer stifled a yawn. This first convoy was a large one, containing as it did several wagons and more than 40 patients. For that reason, the group had overnighted a short distance outside the city, choosing to make their way through the twisted streets of Haven in the early hours, before the gates opened to the crush of daily traffic. Evin glanced at the brightening sky. The day promised to be unusually hot for early fall. Just as well they were doing this in the cool morning.

Someone in the gathered group of green-clad greeters gave a quiet shout and pointed. The first team was just now cresting the final curve towards the courtyard.

Kyminn forced himself to stand still, but that didn't keep him from craning his neck, searching the arrivals for familiar faces. In that he wasn't alone. Everyone at the Healer's Collegium knew someone who'd been serving in the war. Everyone wanted the same reassurances that their friends and colleagues had returned safely.

Hails and warm cries of greeting were suddenly drowned out by a tremendous clamour of barking. Three dark forms leapt from a wagon bed and arrowed directly towards Kyminn, paws scattering gravel in their wake.

Kyminn had barely enough time to drop to his knees and attempt to brace himself for the onslaught. He shortly found himself tumbled over by a thrashing, licking, wagging pile of dog. Tip and Bull - two scarred mastiffs who had been with Kyminn for four years now - and who had saved his life more than once. With them was Raff, a more recent addition to 'Kyminn's menagerie', a shaggy brown and black animal who had proved herself a superlative search and rescue beast. The tangle of canine greeting left Kyminn breathless with delight.

A strong, green-sleeved arm reached into the melee and extricated Kyminn. A mental request from the Healer and the dogs withdrew, but their happy gyrations continued. Evin shook his head. "I take it these aren't the friends you were expecting?"

"No," but Kyminn was still grinning, "But I'm certainly glad to see them again! I just wonder if someone sent them - hoping they'd help me - or brought them…" He broke off and gave a gleeful shout of greeting.

"Tysen!" Tysen's nearly seven-foot height meant that the Healer was distinctive in any crowd. Tysen gave a small wave from the back of a wagon and a lopsided grin, gesturing for Kyminn to remain where he was.

So focused was he on Tysen, the voice at his elbow made him jump a bit.

"Kyminn?" Cydris's voice was equal parts warmth and concern. Hazel eyes searched Kyminn's scarred face, seeking some clue as to his well-being.

"Cydris!" Unheeding, Kyminn let his cane fall and swept her up in a rib-crushing hug. He was aware that he was grinning like a fool, and he didn't particularly care. Greatly daring, he bussed her soundly.

"Kyminn!" The half-hearted protest was broken by her laughter. She pulled back, but didn't break free. "How are you?" Hope and concern warred in the query.

"I'm fine." Kyminn eased the hug and set her down. "Really, truly fine. Crathach and the rest of the team agree. More than fine, I'm back at work."

"Kym!" The relief was profound and her voice roughened. "We were so worried about you!" It was her turn to hug him, surreptitiously drying her tears on his chest.

Kyminn simply held her, wishing that when she'd said "we" that she'd really meant "I". He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her quiet strength and wisdom until just now.

"If you two are quite finished?" Eiven's tone was dry. He handed Kyminn the cane, his face bland.

Startled, the two stepped apart, blushing. Kyminn looked from Cydris, to Eiven to Tysen. "All of you? You all got posted here? How on earth did that happen?" He didn't really care, he was just glad to see his friends again.

Eiven gave a rueful shrug. "Cydris and I," he said pointedly, "Are posted here. Tysen," and he indicated the tall Healer who was presently waiting his turn to dismount the wagon, "Was posted back to Warford."

Kyminn's eyebrows shot up. "Was? Why don't I like the sound of that?" He peered through the milling crowd of Healers, litters, porters and animals in the courtyard. Catching sight of Tysen, he took in the drawn look on the Healer's face and the arm bound firmly against Tysen's chest. "What happened?"

Cydris and Eiven exchanged glances. Cydris answered for them. "A few days before he was to turn off at the junction for Warford, Tysen managed to get himself injured."

"He was helping hitch up the horses one morning and one of the horses was out of sorts. Let fly with a kick. She mostly missed him, but smashed his hand up against the wagon tongue. Managed to break most of the bones of his hand in the process." Eiven sighed at the randomness of the event.

"Anyway," Cydris took up the tale again, "The powers that be decided that he'd heal more quickly - and with a better outcome - if he was sent back here. Leaving him at Warford with the injury would mean the camp was short a Healer for several sennights while he recovered. So, since there were plenty of us to choose from, they switched out postings. A Healer who was originally supposed to come here ended up in Warford in Tysen's place."

Eiven's tone was droll. "The replacement is, I understand, very familiar with the camp and I'm sure he'll do a fine job. I'm told though, that Senior Healer Menden wasn't best pleased to find himself back in a Guard camp instead of spending a winter in the comfort of Haven."

Kyminn tried to stifle his smile at the prospect. Given Kyminn's unhappy experiences with Senior Healer Mennis's prejudices towards non-Gifted Healers, he found it rather hard to generate sympathy for the Senior's circumstance. "Oh dear. I imagine so," he murmured politely.

"Kyminn!" Cydris nudged him in mock chastisement. "Be nice! As it so happens, Senior Healer Menden has been forced to become somewhat more open-minded on certain topics."

A raised eyebrow. "One can only hope." Kyminn broke off to offer Tysen a rough, if cautious, clasp of greeting. "Ty. It's good to see you! I can only wish it were under better circumstances!"

"Well, you know me. Anything to get out of Warford." The grin was twisted with irony.

Eiven snorted and gave Tysen a second, sharper glance. "Some patients…" A gentle touch on Tysen's shoulder and the lines of pain faded from the tall Healer's face.

"Thanks Eiven. I didn't want to ask." Tysen looked chagrined.

"Healers," Cydris muttered. "Worst patients _ever_!" Kyminn got the distinct impression that she counted himself in that statement. He smiled.

"Eiven? Cydris?" Two figures in paler green wended their way through the crowd towards the group.

Avi and Betra! Of course they would be back, Kyminn reminded himself. The Trainees still had to complete their final year and internships, although the latter would be shortened greatly given the students' recent months of service at the front.

"Go ahead and report to the Dean. I imagine he'll know where you're supposed to go from here." Eiven glanced at Kyminn. "Unless…?" he let the question trail off. Until Kyminn's devastating injury, Avi had been Kyminn's mentee and Kyminn's responsibility. Clearly, Eiven had taken over that role during Kyminn's incapacitation.

A shake of his head and a smile. "Eiven's quite right, Avi. You're his charge until we hear differently. In the meantime, I'm here if you need me, but I'll not step back in until we know what's what." Kyminn took a moment to assess the Trainee. Avi carried a new confidence yes, but also a dark maturity that spoke to the strain of the summer's labours. Kyminn knew that look well - it lurked in the eyes he greeting each morning in the mirror. He made a note to find a quiet moment to check in and make sure Avi was managing alright.

"And...you, Kyminn?" Betra glanced at Cydris in question.

"Well and hale. Back at work and ready to wrestle bears." Kyminn assured her with a smile. "Or at least, the dogs. Or perhaps kittens."

A laugh and a polite nod and the two Trainees faded back into the crowd. As Kyminn watched them go, he glanced over at Cydris. "Are they still…?"

A nod. "More or less. I don't think the attachment is permanent though. I think it will just fade on its own as they settle back in."

Tysen and Eiven broke off their quiet consultation to interrupt. "We should get Tysen checked in and onto the treatment schedule. And figure out where we're supposed to be. I don't suppose you know?"

Kyminn shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't even know you were going to be here. I just hoped at see at least one familiar face." With a 'follow-me' wave, Kyminn searched through the thinning crowd for a distinctive shock of frizzy blond hair.

"Evin!" At Kyminn's shout, Evin looked up from his consultation with a harried looking servitor.

"Evin, this is my friend - and presently a patient - Tysen, Cydris, and Eiven." Kyminn pointed at each in turn.

Evin and Eiven regarded each other and then chorused, in unison, "We've met."

"Really? Oh, I suppose so. You both trained here of course. Sorry."

Evin shook his head. "I was a few years ahead of Eiven here. That didn't prevent people from getting us mixed up . time." The last words were enunciated with profound exasperation.

A blink. Kyminn looked at Eiven's stocky frame, straight black hair and dark brown eyes and then at Evin - slender, freckled and with that astonishing shock of hair. "How…?"

"Evin. Eiven." It was Eiven's turn to sigh. "Never mind that one is E-vin and the other EYE-vin. Apparently, similar spelling was enough to cause just about everything to go astray."

"Books. Like the time you kept 'forgetting' your copy of _Mallin's Historical Herbology_ and people kept bringing it to me," Evin mused.

"Schedules," Eiven pointed out. "I was in second year and rather surprised to find I was apparently supposed to take an advanced obstetrics course."

"Mail," Evin shook his head. "At least that was pretty straightforward."

"Except for when _I_ kept getting love notes and poems from that Bardic Trainee that was chasing you." Eiven rolled his eyes. Getting (bad) love poetry from an unknown Bardic student (of the wrong gender, no less), had been decidedly awkward.

Evin bit back a grin. "Um. Yes. Sorry about that."

Kyminn shook his head. "I'm sure we could stand here all morning, exchanging tales of bureaucratic mistakes, but I think we'd be better off getting these folks checked in."

Evin nodded agreement. "That's just what Perralt and I were discussing. Apparently, the advance notices discussed the numbers and classes of patients and a very general list of returning Healing staff. So many males, so many females and so forth. So there's no fixed room assignments as yet."

The servitor, his badge identifying him as a member of the Housekeeper's staff, nodded to Eiven and Cydris. "We are, unfortunately, extremely short of space. We've been partnering with Healer's to house everyone, but first priority was, of course, the patients. With Healer's so crowded, we've had to make some adjustments." Perralt consulted his list. "According to my information, there were five women Healers returning today. Does that sound right?"

Cydris thought quickly and nodded. "Yes, that's right. There were five of us."

"We have made some changes to the instructor's guest house. The rooms there are quite large and we've turned most of them into doubles and one we managed to fit three into. Unfortunately, I believe the double is spoken for. That leaves you in the last room I'm afraid." Perralt straightened, a man confident in his authority, but realistic about how his words might be received.

Cydris sighed. "Well then, I guess I'll have a couple of roommates then. It won't be the first time and I daresay it won't be the last."

Perralt nodded, clearly pleased that Cydris was prepared to be reasonable. He turned his attention to Eiven, his brow furrowed as he consulted his lists. "I have two possibilities for you, sir. But before I commit, I'm wondering if one of you might be Healer Danner?"

Kyminn raised a hand. "That would be me."

The servitor looked relieved. "I have a message for you from your Dean, Healer. Apparently you are being moved out of your old room and we've been asked to add you to our list for housing." The man hesitated, "Do you wish to confirm this with anyone?"

"No," Kyminn nodded in understanding. "It makes sense. I'm currently in the Trainee wing, and I imagine with all these senior students returning that they're going to need the space. In any event, I don't need to be there any more. Dean Tannel mentioned they were going to look at shifting me."

"In the Trainee's wing?" Eiven looked at Kyminn in askance.

A headshake. "It's complicated. I'll explain later, maybe over dinner." Kyminn turned his attention back to Perralt. "I'm sorry. You're very busy and we're busy chatting. You were saying?"

Perralt leafed through his pages. "There are two choices. One is a smaller, single room in the servant's wing of the palace. It is, however, on the third floor." The clerk politely did not glance at Kyminn's cane.

"I'll take it." Eiven didn't hesitate. "Unless the other one is somewhere equally inaccessible, in which case I'll let Kyminn decide."

"The other one is also a single, and while it is on the ground floor, it used to be a storage room for linens. It is...rather rustic. I'm told it's clean, and the carpenters installed a small window for light, but it is rather humble. It is also located in the instructor's wing."

"Done and done." Kyminn didn't hesitate. Having slept in everything from private quarters in a baron's estate to rain-soaked canvas in a sodden field, the notion of sleeping in a converted linen closet bothered him not in the least.

"There. That's settled. Kyminn, if you could please get Tysen checked in? There's probably room in the new ward. I've got to finish up here." Evin indicated the partially unloaded wagons.

Kyminn nodded, then paused. "Dinner tonight? I was thinking the small room at The Willow. At the seventh hour?"

"Agreed." "I'll be there!" "Gladly!"

Footsteps crunched on the gravel as the small group made their way across the courtyard. The morning sun gilded the buildings with gold and the faint scent of autumn filled Kyminn's lungs. This was looking to be a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"...Rather glad I got the closet, actually. It's bigger than you'd think, but it's such an odd shape that I'm not surprised it ended up as storage." Kyminn settled back into his seat with a replete sigh. Only three of their little band had convened at the Willow - Eiven, Cydris and himself. Tysen, still very much a patient, was resting following a grueling procedure to adjust the shattered bones in his hand and wrist. It would be the first of many such sessions, but with expert attention from the Collegium's bone specialists, he should be back at work within a fortnight or so.

Evin had begged off, pleading work. Although he and Kyminn got on well together, they'd actually not socialized much, and the older Healer recognized that the other three shared a friendship of long standing. Avi and Betra had likewise begged off, indicating their intention to catch up with their year-mates.

That left the three of them to enjoy a quiet meal and catch up. Like many places in the city, the Willow had become a gathering place for a certain kind of guest. While places like the Compass Rose drew the scholarly sort, and the Laughing Lady the musical, the Willow was more sedate. Quiet business dinners, Healers needing a quiet place to wrestle with a difficult case - the Willow offered calm, unobtrusive service and a good kitchen. For three old friends discussing a tumultuous summer, it was perfect.

Eiven shook his head, swallowing the last bit of his cider. "I'm glad things worked out so well - on all fronts. I wouldn't have considered that subjecting you to trauma would have cured you, but I can't argue with the result."

"Neither would anyone else." It was wry. Kyminn shook his head soberly. Being linked to a Companion at the moment of her Herald's death and then being crushed when the Companion herself died had left him with crippling mental and physical injuries. Sennights of treatment at the front, and then later back in Haven, had mended his bones, but not his mind. Faced with crumbling sanity and fearing the loss of his Gifts, Kyminn had been spiralling out of control. Unable to be alone, terrified of Heralds and Companions, he tried to hide the extent of the problem while grasping for a cure.

Eventually, it was his attempt to hide the problem which ultimately caused it to be exposed. Kyminn's repeated avoidance of his friend Randen, and Randen's Companion Derris, had finally caused Randen to force a confrontation. Kyminn's subsequent collapse had prompted the Companions to intervene, mending the damage caused by the Companion Zayle's death. Kyminn remembered none of it, only that when he came to in Companion's Field, something had changed. Both the Healer and Herald readily accepted Derris's explanation that the experience had caused Kyminn to 'break past' the trauma which had impeded his recovery. Now fully recovered, Kyminn had no reason to question how the recovery had been effected.

"So what are you doing now that you're back at work?" Cydris was curious. "Eiven and I spent the day getting patients checked in and setting up treatment plans. There's a lot of work ahead of all of us."

"I spend a lot of my time in the saddle these days." Kyminn sighed. His peripatetic wanderings in the service of crown and Circle had caused him to spend much of the past five years on the road. "Injured horses have been filtering into the livestock grounds for some time now and I've a lot to do there. For many of these animals, they need either intense Healing or lots of rehabilitation before they are going to be fit again."

"I have to admit," Eiven admitted, "That it seems like an awful lot of effort to expend on beasts that may never be fit for military service. Wouldn't it have made more sense to slaughter them and put the effort elsewhere? Getting them here must have taken a couple of moons!"

"You're not the first person to mention that," Kyminn admitted. "There's a lot of grumbling on several fronts. The plain fact is, we can't afford to _not_ do this. You both know I worked the levy, the first year of the war. I have a pretty good notion of just how many beasts are available for the Guard's needs, while still making sure farmers can grow enough food to feed everyone. And that was two years ago. The situation is far, far worse now."

Kyminn sighed. "If you were to go to most estates, you would find very few hunters or riding animals left. Most have been levied for the war effort. There's a whole group of Animal Mindspeakers who have spent the last two years training oxen for farmers because the draft horses are needed at the front." His smile was ironic. "I don't envy them. Oxen can be _stupid!_

"Everyone realizes that not all these animals are going to be going back to the Guard. Still, some these represent animals levied in the first year or so. Many have good bloodlines. A mare who is permanently lame and not ridable might still be a good broodmare if all she has to do is eat grass and produce foals. The same is true for a lot of animals that might be too injured for heavy work but who can still pull a Healer's light trap when she makes her rounds."

"Huh. I never considered that," Eiven admitted. "Are things really that bad?"

Kyminn hesitated. His meetings with the Dean of the Healer's Collegium had been extremely frank. Tannel had told Kyminn that the King intended for the next year to be decisive. Whether Valdemar stood or fell would be decided next spring.

"It is." Kyminn nodded. "You see it less, here in the capital, but its here if you know what to look for. The nobles are pretending it's not happening, but ask them about taxes, or manpower levies and you'll get an earful."

Cydris raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you start discussing taxes with nobles?"

"Never!" There was mock horror in the response. "I avoid most of the court as a matter of course. Their _staff_ , on the other hand...those we do see. Some of them end up at Healers and not all are as discreet as perhaps their employers would believe.

"A few days ago, I helped set a broken wrist for one of Lady Corbie's maids. It seems Lord Corbie was on a tear about the latest round of tax increases and threw his wash basin and ewer across the room. When the maid came to clean it up, she slipped in the water and broke her wrist." Kyminn sniffed. "He docked her a day's pay too. Normally, we would have just splinted it and let it take a moon to heal, but it was clear she wouldn't be paid while she was hurt so the duty Healer went ahead and Healed her. She only missed two days instead of sennights."

"Kyminn," Eiven's voice was low. "You're not tangling with Lord Corbie again, are you?"

The headshake was vehement. "Good gods no! I haven't laid eyes on the man or any of his household, aside from the maid. I'm not even sure my name is on her treatment record since I didn't conduct the Healing." He held up his hands defensively. "I'm well aware that he will never stop blaming me for the censure he received from the King when M'Lord tried to cheat the levy. I've no intention of poking a stick into _that_ wasp nest, I assure you!"

"Good!" Eiven was emphatic. "You have a tendency to pick fights with the wrong sorts and I don't want to see you in trouble again!"

Kyminn wanted to protest that he didn't pick fights at all. He simply insisted on doing his duty, sometimes in spite of what his putative betters preferred. Still, he said nothing and simply nodded his acquiescence.

"So." Cydris was determined to change the subject. "In addition to mending the kingdom's horseflesh, what else are you doing?"

A grateful smile. "Well, I'm also training the kingdom's horseflesh. I spend part of my time at the new Guard camp just outside the city, helping with training. It's something I can do readily, but it does mean a lot of time travelling back and forth. Lastly, I'm here. There's a small group of senior students that I'm working with. We do some pretty in-depth case studies. It keeps me busy. Plus there's Renya, of course."

"Renya?" Cydris kept the question mild.

"Renya," He smiled as he said it. "She certainly keeps me busy, I'll grant you that! I try to make time to see her at least three days out of seven, but it's hard. I'm thinking of bringing her with me when I treat the horses but I haven't asked her yet." He grinned at Cydris. "You'll have to meet her. I think you'll like her."

"I'm sure I will." It was polite. "Have you known her long?"

A shrug. "Not terribly. The Dean introduced us nearly as soon as I arrived. I didn't know her before that. So...three or four moons I suppose." A chuckle. "Feels like a lot longer though. I'm still recovering from her birthday celebration!"

"I see." Cydris cleared her throat. "Well, thank you for a lovely dinner Kyminn, but it's been a long day and I should be getting back. There are a few patients I'd like to check on before I turn in." She rose and Eiven rose with her.

"Cydris? I'll walk you back. I should check on my patients too." Eiven flashed Kyminn a black look. "Thank you Kyminn. Sorry to eat and run. Are you okay to get back with your bad leg?"

"What? Oh, yes. No problem." Kyminn was baffled by Eiven's behaviour but let it go. "You two go on ahead, I'll only slow you up. Good night."

Kyminn watched them go, wondering what on earth had gotten into them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Over the next fortnight, Kyminn had more than one opportunity to be grateful for the fact that he was used to hard work. Breakfast these days was more often than not a few hot rolls, hollowed out and filled with egg, stewed fruit or even oatmeal - anything that could be eaten one handed in a saddle whilst on his way to...wherever he was supposed to be working that day. Lunch was whatever could be scrounged and dinner, well, dinner was whatever was still hot on the night-hearth.

Hard work didn't bother him and he willingly threw himself headlong into the problems before him. Most problems, given the application of enough effort, yielded and he began to measure successes. Some problems, however, proved more stubborn.

A wall, polite, professional and ice-cold, had grown up between himself and Cydris. Kyminn turned to Eiven for help, only to find that Eiven refused to even address the matter. In fact, Eiven was only slightly less distant than was Cydris herself. With bemusement rapidly giving way to frustration and irritation, Kyminn took the problem to Tysen. Tysen heard him out, listening in silence until Kymin wound down.

"Well?" Kyminn huffed, exasperated. "Why, all of a sudden, won't she talk to me?"

Tysen regarded him steadily for a long moment. "Kyminn, you're an idiot. And if you think I'm getting involved, you're even more of an idiot than I thought. Now, go away. My arm hurts." And with that, Tysen leaned back and ostentatiously closed his eyes.

Kyminn gawped. "Tysen!" he sputtered.

"I said, Go. Away." The eyes didn't open. "Now. Before I throw a pillow at you."

Still agape, Kyminn rose silently and left. A headache was beginning to form behind his eyes. He wondered if it was time to start swearing yet.

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Shh...easy there sweet. Easy…" Kyminn ran his hands down the mare's battered leg. No bones had been broken by the blow which had felled her, but the damage to tendon and ligament had been so painful that the muscles had weakened as the mare refused to to take weight on the leg. Her other joints had suffered as she'd tried to compensate for the lameness.

"Well, sir?" The Guardsmen assigned as grooms had quickly developed respect for Kyminn's ability to Heal their charges and, astonishingly, Speak to them and convey the horses' needs.

"She'll be alright, but it's going to take a lot of work. I'll put some time in Healing her and putting things right, and I'll set up a series of exercises to strengthen that leg. Fortunately, horses naturally prefer to use all legs equally if it's an option. Once we show her she can, she'll want to." Kyminn stroked the bay mare's soft muzzle.

"That's good news. She's got good breeding and a good heart, does this one." The Guardsman ran his hands across her compact withers.

"I agree. Unfortunately, the fact that she'll be of sound mind and body means that she'll be returned as a cavalry mount." Kyminn sighed. "I know that our chances of driving out the Tedrels once and for all are improved if you fellows are on solid, well trained animals. It's not what I'd like to see for her, but it's the way it has to be." He sighed. "Alright. Who's next?"

The Guardsman scratched his head ruefully. "Well, Healer Kyminn sir, I was asked to show you one that came in a while ago. We've not been able to do much with him and frankly sir, I'm not sure he's salvageable. I think they're hoping to make him fit for breeding, but if you can manage it, I'd be surprised."

A faint smile. "Well, never let it be said that I wouldn't accept a challenge. Show me this dread beast then, if you would."

Dread beast was right. Kyminn's heart caught when he saw the massive stallion. Once a magnificent animal, the horse was now a plunging tower of rage. Kyminn didn't need to see beneath the matted, filthy coat to catalog the injuries. His Healing senses let him trace the stallion's final battle through the terrible wounds.

There, the blow to the head, that was the first one. Kyminn was astonished that the fractured skull hadn't killed the horse outright instead of dazing him. The same blow had struck the eye socket, scoring the eye and clouding it. Reaching with his Gifts, Kyminn could see that the eye still worked, but that the horse was left with a cloudy, indistinct vision. Unable to see his surroundings, everything - and everyone - became a threat.

Next was the deep slash across the stomach, behind the front legs. Here, the stallion had reared to avoid the danger driving at his head, but doing so left the war-horse's vulnerable belly exposed. The sword blow had cut deep, striking the underside of the breastbone.

Maddened by pain, desperate to avoid injury, the stallion had spun, no doubt intending to lash out with his hind legs and drive off his enemy. It might have succeeded, had the horse been able to see his foe out of the injured eye, and had the gash not weakened him. Regardless, the enemy had gotten in one final blow, biting deep into the muscles on the stallion's haunch. That the blow had mostly landed between the two major muscles rather than across them was the only thing which had saved the stallion. Had those muscles been severed, there would have been nothing anyone could do.

Now though...yes, Kyminn could save this animal. He would never again serve as a warhorse, but he would survive. Drawing deeply on his Gifts, Kyminn reached out to the frantic equine mind, touched, soothed. Still linked, he opened the latch and swung the gate open.

"Healer?" The Guardsman didn't sound happy. "He's attacked everyone that's gone in there."

"It's alright. I've got him." Kyminn's voice was distant, his attention on the animal in front of him. "Bring some warm water and cleaning cloths. And some help. We need to get him cleaned up."

Kyminn stood with his hands on either side of the stallion's lowered head, gently rubbing the animal's ears while his Gift blocked the animal's pain and distress. Dimly, he heard the heated whispers from outside the pen as grooms took one look and refused to enter. Finally, two hardy souls crept in, buckets and cleaning supplies in hand. Under Kyminn's direction, they removed the stitches and cleaned the festered wounds, removing sennights of mud, burrs, and filth from the animal's coat. As the stallion stood silently, their confidence grew and their hasty swipes became careful, tender work.

It took nearly four candlemarks before the treatment was complete. Once-foul wounds had been drained and treated, hooves trimmed and the coat had regained some of its rightful luster. As Kyminn slowly, carefully separated his _self_ from that of the horse, he gently rubbed the finely shaped head, tracing the perfect blaze up to where a little swipe arched above one eye.

"Sir?" The Guardsman's question was profoundly respectful. "Are you alright?"

Kyminn smiled absently as he continued to soothe the horse. "I'm fine." A sigh. "He'll recover, but, obviously, he'll not be fit for fighting. As for everything else...he'll never see properly out of that eye and he'll need very careful handling as a result. He'll be liable to lash out and he's war trained - he could seriously hurt someone. In addition…" This time, the smile was ironic. "I'm reasonably sure that his owners are going to want him back."

The Guardsman thought about that. Where a raging, filthy demon had stood, there was now a glossy black animal. Massive, a good 17 hands tall at least, the stallion was perfectly proportioned - the size of a draft horse, but the form of an exquisite hunter. Yes, someone would want this animal back. "What are you going to do with him sir?"

A chuckle. "I'm going to take him with me." Kyminn gestured to the chaos of of the livestock yard. "He'll go mad if he stays here. I'm sure I can make arrangements to have him housed at the palace. It will certainly be calmer, and I can keep an eye on him. After that, well...I suppose I'll write Lord Ashkevron and ask him if he wants Hugo back."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Getting Hugo back to the Palace had been a non-trivial challenge. In the end, Kyminn moved him in the pre-dawn, giving the stallion enough light to see and no traffic to contend with. It was a slow and careful trip, with Kyminn linked firmly to the horse, letting the horse share Kyminn's own vision of their surroundings. It was more than a bit peculiar, and with Hugo still badly wounded, their trip was a slow one.

Still and all, Kyminn was relieved to get Hugo settled into a sturdy stall in one of the barns. The cost of housing the animal would have put a significant dent in Kyminn's savings, but he had applied to the Healer's Collegium for help with the cost. He was, after all, going to need a horse, given all the traveling he was doing. That it was an animal that very few would attempt to manage meant that a mount was freed up for somebody else.

Regarding the horse, calm and settled in his stall, Kyminn sighed. At least one part of his life was calm and settled. The training and rehabilitation were exhausting, but productive. His personal life, however, was still most definitely neitherproductive _nor_ settled.

Not only was Cydris rebuffing any attempts to get together with Kyminn, she was actively avoiding him. It was, he mused darkly, extremely ironic, given that he'd spent a summer avoiding Randen with at least as much dedication as Cydris now put into avoiding Kyminn. He would have put money on the fact that _he_ knew all the best places in the Collegium to avoid someone - and he would have been wrong. All Cydris had to do, and she did so with impunity, was disappear into the women's wing of the dormitory.

The dormitories were not exclusively set aside as male or female - Trainees invited friends and lovers into their rooms as they wished. It was, however, considered extremely inappropriate for someone to wander the opposite sex's wing without express invitation. Were Kyminn to simply show up and start knocking on doors….no. Just...no. It would be a very short race indeed to see if the residents or the Dean tossed him out on his ear first.

Kyminn sighed again and glanced at the sky. The waking bell would be ringing soon. He might even get a chance to sit down and eat breakfast today. He had papers to review from his senior students and a new study to prepare. That promised to take up most of his morning. The afternoon though, was going to be much better. He'd promised Renya another walk in the Founder's Garden and they were both looking forward to it. Fall was well and truly set in now and they would shortly have to find warmer activities.

 _SCENE BREAK_

There were, Kyminn decided, certain advantages to actually eating breakfast in the dining room. Mostly that since people didn't expect you to show up, they didn't try to avoid you there. He sat down across from Cydris and poured himself a mug of tea. Holding out the pot, he raised an eyebrow in invitation.

Cydris opened her mouth and snapped it shut. A stiff nod. "Yes. Thank you." It was frosty and concisely proper.

Without a word, Kyminn poured the tea and then added the sweetener and cream in her preferred proportions. Pushing the mug over to her, he took his up and sipped, waiting.

A trial sip to check the flavour. "You remembered."

A raised eyebrow. "Of course I did. We've been having breakfast together for three summers now. It's not something I'm likely to forget." He fought to keep his tone level, polite.

Another sip, her eyes narrow and cool. "You seemed to be forgetting things lately, is all."

The mug slammed down on the tabletop, slopping hot tea over his hand. "What does that mean?" It came out in a low hiss as he wiped the scalding liquid off his hand.

"Nothing. Clearly it meant nothing. Means nothing." She swallowed, flustered and angry.

He blew on his stinging hand and tried to rein in his temper. "Cydris...are you angry with me?"

Her jaw dropped. "Did you…" she said slowly, "seriously just ask me that question?"

He hesitated. Clearly something was going terribly wrong, but he had no idea what. "Yes?"

She put the mug down, slowly, precisely. Pushed it away from herself as though it suddenly contained poison.

"No Kyminn, I'm not angry with you." It was bitter. "Clearly, I should be angry at myself. It seems I've made a profound error in judgement. I assure you, it most certainly won't happen again." She lurched to her feet. "I would ask you to cease trying to contact me, to socialize with me. From this point on, our association is to be strictly professional." She stalked away, breakfast uneaten and congealing on the plate behind her.

Kyminn watched her go, aghast. The headache was back and it was definitely time to start swearing. Swallowing his frustration, he made a decision. Regardless of whatever it was that was wrong between he and Cydris, there was something else he was determined to get right.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Cydris didn't intend to overhear the conversation. Following the disastrous events at breakfast, she'd tucked herself into a quiet corner of the Hall and indulged in a brief cry. She didn't intend to, it just...happened. She was so angry, and frustrated with herself at letting her emotions overcome her reason! Angrily scrubbing the tears away, she straightened herself and took a deep, bracing breath. If Kyminn wanted to be an ass, so be it. She was stronger than this.

She was just debating whether or not she still had time to catch the end of breakfast in the dining all or if she'd have to cadge something from the kitchen when she heard Kyminn. She wanted to keep going, but her feet dragged to a halt of their own accord when his words registered.

" _Dean Tannel! If you have a moment please? I'll be quick, I promise. I just had a question regarding Renya."_ Kyminn's hail caught the Dean passing between his quarters and his office. Tannel stopped and waited for Kyminn to catch up.

Renya? She shouldn't listen. Knew she shouldn't. Knew it was wrong to surrender to her anger and jealousy. Clamping down - hard - on her conscience, she shifted out of sight and listened.

Drat it! She couldn't hear a thing! She peered around the corner, only to see the two men engaged in a cheerful conversation. For someone who had just had a relationship severed, Kyminn seemed appallingly happy. She wanted to grind her teeth in frustration.

" _Thank you sir! I'll be seeing her this afternoon, I'll ask her today!"_ That much, at least, carried clearly across the distance. The Dean smiled and gave a wave of farewell as he resumed his journey. " _Good luck Kyminn! You have my full support in this. I hope she says yes!"_

Cydris fled.

 _SCENE BREAK_

She hadn't intended to - she wanted to believe she was stronger than this. Nonetheless, Cydris found herself at Eiven's door, weeping onto the astonished Healer's shoulder.

Eventually, she reasserted control and managed to mumble an explanation for her extraordinary lapse.

"Kyminn? You're sure?" It was the third time Eiven had repeated the question.

"Yes I'm sure!" Her fragility made her waspish. "I may have been eavesdropping, but I know what I heard. Kyminn is going to ask this Renya to marry him and he has the Dean's blessing to do so."

"Oh Cydris, I'm so, so sorry!" Eiven simply held her tight. "I thought there was something between you two. I'm so sorry. I never thought he was the kind of person who would do something like this!"

A sniffle. "I thought so too. Maybe I misread things. Maybe...maybe it was just the war. I know that that happens. People feel things...that they might not normally feel."

A sigh. "I suppose it's possible," the agreement was reluctant."If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one to have misread things. Tysen and I both thought that he had feelings for you." A sad smile. "So I guess we were all wrong together."

"Either that or he's just an ass," she muttered.

A sputtered laugh. "Yes, that's possible as well. I wouldn't have credited him with that kind of behaviour but...he's been through a lot this year. It's possible he's not the man he once was."

"It's too bad," it was sad. "I rather liked the man he used to be."

"I know, Cydris." He sighed. "Now what?"

She scrubbed her swollen eyes and gave a shaky laugh. "Now, I go have a bath and clean up. I'll scare patients if I show up like this."

Eiven regarded her and then gave a reluctant nod. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with you on this. I'll tell you what - my morning is busy - I've got two major procedures booked. But I have some time this afternoon. What say I cover for you this afternoon and you take some time to work things through? I even know a place where you can be alone. Hardly anybody ever goes there, but I think you'll enjoy it. It's called the Founder's Garden…"


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N Thank you all for your patience! If the stars have aligned as I think they have, I should be able to update much more regularly again!_

Chapter 5

The Founder's Garden really was a unique place. No raked gravel and trimmed hedges here; this was plain flagstone and riotous blooms. Plants that would have been unwelcome in a 'proper garden' were encouraged here. Aside from a small, discreet plaque at the entrance, there were no guiding signs to tell one what one was looking at.

 _This garden was established in the year 51 After Founding. It represents the regions and people which make up our Kingdom, brought here to flourish together on common ground._

That was all. There was no distinction of 'north' and 'south', 'highland' or 'lowland'. It was all simply 'Valdemar'.

So intriguing was the notion that Cydris actually found herself distracted somewhat. Not entirely, not by a long road, but still, it was a soothing place to walk and reflect. Three years of burgeoning friendship and, she'd thought, maybe something more. She was torn between feeling betrayed and simply feeling foolish at assuming something that clearly wasn't there. That she didn't know whether to blame Kyminn or herself didn't help matters.

Had she really misread things that badly? It seemed wildly out of character for him to be behaving this way, but no alternate explanation presented itself. She knew it was in his nature to commit to his friends with a deep and compassionate loyalty. It was one of the things she liked best about him.

Whoever this Renya was, she'd clearly become important to Kyminn. That she had, apparently, taken a place Cydris had thought she herself had occupied...that hurt. To be fair, she and Kyminn had never even broached the subject. His impulsive kiss of greeting was the most intimate contact they'd enjoyed. She knew she was being churlish and petty and unfair. In a day or so, when she'd had a chance to get over her shock and pain, she'd try to be more civil. Maybe.

So lost was she in her brooding that she didn't hear the light scuff of footsteps approaching from around the bend in the path.

"Oh! I'm sorry, senior!" The youngster in Trainee greens skidded to a halt.

Cydris failed to suppress her yelp of surprise at the interruption. As she stopped to slow her racing heart, she examined the intruder.

Straight brown hair, bound in a wind-teased braid, hung down the girl's back. Cydris's first impression of the girl's age underwent revision when she realized the Trainee was much younger than her height first suggested. The youngster afforded Cydris a grave, respectful nod and then settled back on her heels, head cocked to one side as she regarded the adult with thoughtful curiosity.

"I'm sorry senior. I didn't know anyone else was here." It was carefully courteous, someone practicing a new language.

Cydris's startelement faded to a curiosity of her own. "I didn't expect to see anyone here either. I...gather you have permission?"

"Yes senior. I have free time most afternoons and we come here regularly. It's a scavenger hunt, you see." A grin, quickly suppressed, filled rather ordinary her face with lively character.

"A scavenger hunt?" Cydris shook her head in bemusement at the apparent non-sequitur.

"Um hmm." The trainee nodded. "We take turns finding stories, songs and poems from different parts of Valdemar. Then the other one has to find the part of the garden from that region." The girl hesitated and then added thoughtfully, " _I_ think he's trying to get me to learn things." A shrug and that smile again. "It's fun though. Except for the singing."

It was Cydris's turn to cock her head. Conversations with this child certainly tended to veer off in unexpected directions! "Singing?" A smile crept across her face.

"Singing. Kyminn is a dreadful singer. He says it's because the only songs he knows really well shouldn't be sung in front of 10 year olds." The disdainful sniff was eloquent.

Cydris's smile froze. "Kyminn?"

The girl's eyes went wide and she took a step backwards.

"Kyminn?!" The girl didn't take her eyes off Cydris as she made the name a shout.

"Renya?" A familiar voice from around the bend. "Are you alright?"

Cydris felt her knees lock. Renya? _This_ was Renya? This...child Trainee?

"I'm fine!" Renya's eyes hadn't left Cydris as the girl called back over her shoulder. "But the senior here isn't."

"Senior?" Kyminn was panting from his burst of speed. "What sen...Cydris?"

"Kyminn." Cydris was sure her smile was ghastly.

"Kyminn!" Renya's tone was insistent. "The Healer is very upset! Do something!"

"I…" Kyminn looked from child to Healer and back again. "Cydris... _are_ you alright?"

The laugh was strangled and ironic. "Ha!" Cydris found herself suddenly wishing there was truth in the tales of the ground swallowing one up in mortification.

Kyminn clamped his jaw shut firmly and took a deep breath. Then another. "Cydris, _will_ you be alright?"

She hesitated, then nodded once, face frozen in a polite rictus.

He exhaled. "Good." He paused for another long moment. Then, carefully, "Renya...how did you know that Cydris was upset?" It was light, conversational.

Renya shifted her attention to Kyminn, frowning in thought at the question. "I...I don't know…?" It was hesitant.

"Um hmm?" He raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what I think, Healer-child?"

Renya shook her head.

"I think," and it was wry, "that another Gift of yours just popped itself up. And I'm pretty sure that it is Empathy."

Renya's mouth formed an "Oh!" of surprise, but no sound emerged.

"Let's just see, shall we?" A gentle hand on her shoulder and Renya blinked as she became alone with her own feelings once again.

"There. I've added to your shields, but when we're done here, we're going straight to Evin to confirm what happened. He'll help make sure your shields are firm. Yes?"

Renya nodded quickly in affirmation, then froze as something occurred to her. As she turned back to Cydris, her expression was stricken. "Healer Cydris...I'm very sorry! I didn't mean to...use my Gift on you!"

Something released Cydris and she shook her head gently. "It's not your fault. Gifts emerge when they will. You didn't realize you were doing it and you're doing the right things in learning how to use it."

A careful, practiced bow. "Thank you Healer Cydris, for you understanding." It was oddly adult.

Kyminn broke the tableau by clearing his throat. "So. I see you two have met. Healer Cydris Lancolme, this is Trainee Renya Baden. Cydris is...an old friend. Renya" and his voice warmed with pleasure, "Renya has agreed to become my ward, and let me serve as her guardian."

"Guardian?" Cydris repeated faintly. Dear gods, ground open up and swallow me now!

"Guardian," Kymin affirmed. There was the faintest of hesitations as he met Cydris's gaze. "Renya lost her family to the war. The same attack which destroyed her village also triggered the emergence of her Healing Gift." Something in his face told Cydris there was more to it than that.

"I'm sorry Renya," The grief in Cydris's voice was genuine. "Kyminn and I," she paused for a moment. "Kyminn and I served together. I'm afraid I know the area you're from all too well."

Renya swallowed a bit. "My village is...was...Danford, near Yellowsprings".

Cydris's voice caught. "I know it. I was one of the Healers there...after."

It was Kyminn's turn to be surprised. "You were? I didn't know that!"

Cydris didn't look at him, as she replied quietly. "It was just after...the...accident. You were still unconscious." Her voice was thick with sorrow as she looked at Renya. "I'm sorry for what happened Renya. You should know that we did our best to treat all the victims with respect and care. A few had medallions or household shrines and for those, we tried to find a priest of their temple for the prayers and offerings. When we couldn't...we each recited whatever prayers we knew and we all put in an offering." Cydris took a deep breath. "I know it's not much, but you should know that your family and friends were treated as properly as we could."

"Thank you." It was a whisper. Kyminn simply folded his arms around the grieving child in a silent hug.

As she watched Renya cling to Kyminn, Cydris flushed again in embarrassment at her previous anger. Whether or not there was - or even had been - anything between the two of them seemed irrelevant at the moment, given how badly she'd misjudged things.

Kyminn disentangled himself and gave Renya a small squeeze. "I think we've had enough of the garden for today. What say we track down Evin and get you sorted, hmm?"

A small nod. "I think so too."

"Good. You go on ahead. I'm just going to make sure Cydris is alright. I'll catch up, okay?"

Renya hesitated, then looked pointedly at his cane. "Catch up? Kyminn, I'm faster than you are!"

"Scamp. Go on ahead and wait for me then. I won't be long."

Renya gave one last, thoughtful glance at the two of them before trudging off. As she moved out of earshot, Kyminn turned back to Cydris, his voice pleading.

"Cydris, I know you don't want to talk to me, not on a personal level. I'm not sure why, but I'll respect it. But there's some things that you don't know...and I'm not sure I'm allowed to tell you." He raked his hands through his hair in that familiar, exasperated gesture that made her heart ache. "I just...would you be willing to let me please try to explain as much as I can? So that we can be...cordial again?"

"Kyminn…" she faltered and tried again, "Kyminn, until about a candlemark ago, I thought you were being a total ass. Now though...now I've discovered I was looking in the mirror." She met his gaze. "I very much want to talk. Right after I apologize."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They'd agreed to meet on neutral ground, in an empty classroom after dinner. In the current crowded conditions, it was the only place that came to mind in terms of being both reasonably public and reasonably private at the same time.

"How is Renya doing?" Cydris waited until Kyminn had settled himself.

He seemed a bit surprised at her opening gambit, but answered readily. "She's alright. She's learning to cope. She's come a long way in the past few moons." He paused and then added politely, "What you said...that was nicely done. Thank you for that."

The smile was wry. "Kyminn, I'm a _Healer_. We tend to try to relieve pain when we can." A deep breath, "Which brings me to my apology…"

"Cydris,"...he tried to interject.

"No. Let me say this." Her voice was unhappy. "I behaved badly. I knew that at the time and I let it get the better of me. I...it was wrong and I'm sorry."

A gusty sigh. "I have to admit that I'm glad of the apology, but...I'm still not sure what happened, what happened in the first place. You...it...wasn't what I was expecting," he trailed off lamely.

For a moment, she just stared at him, flickers of her former irritation at his obtuseness trying to reassert themselves. She brutally quashed them before responding. "Kyminn...we worked together for three years. In that time, it seemed to me that we were...growing close. Maybe closer than friends. Then you got hurt...Kyminn, I don't know if you realize it, but you weren't the same after Zayle died." She looked up and added hastily, "Not that I'm suggesting you should be! Please don't think that! It's just…" she searched for words. "It's just that you seemed very different. You were incredibly needy and yet you refused to let anyone get close to you." She shrugged. "We thought it was the injury and that you'd be your old self when you were fully recovered."

"And?" He prompted when she slipped into silence.

"And...we didn't know what we would get. Didn't know for sure if you'd be the same. On one level, we really didn't expect you to be the same - who would be? But we hoped that the old Kyminn would mostly be there when we got here.

"But we got here only to discover that yes, you were healthy again, but all of a sudden there's someone new in your life. Someone you spend three days a sennight with, someone you were...planning to marry…" her voice was small.

"Marry?!" Mouth agape like a beached fish, he could only stare at her for long moments. "Marry? She's a _child_!"

"We didn't know that!" It was a wail of deepest chagrin. When she spoke again, her tone begged him to understand. "Kyminn, you know how the war breaks people up into little groups - 'us' and 'them'. Those who've been there and understand and those who never will. Coming back...even though it was a long journey, we were still 'there' together. We were all speaking the same language, referencing the same shared experiences. Sometimes...sometimes when you come back you forget to leave that intensity behind." She reached out her hand but stopped herself from taking his hand in her own. "When I jumped to conclusions, the other two came with me. None of us thought to take a step back and figure out if we were being anywhere close to reasonable. We just banded together and shut you out. It was stupid and I'm so very, very sorry."

A deep breath. Then a second. Then, because he apparently needed still more time and oxygen, a third.

"It hurts to think that my friends could have thought that of me." He was frank.

A nod as she accepted the pain they had caused. "I know. I'm hoping you'll forgive us. I should let you know that I told the others we'd be talking and that I hoped to patch things up between us. To be fair to them, I think they were starting to realize how far of the mark we'd gotten. Well, Eiven anyway."

That startled him. Tysen was one of his oldest friends and his defection had been particularly painful.

"Tysen...Tysen wants to talk to you himself. I think there's another level of misunderstanding happening between the two of you and it needs to be sorted out. You see, he remembers trying to convey to you that he didn't want to get between us, that you should have realized what had made me upset and talk to me directly. I suspect though, that with the Healing and herbs, that that's not what he conveyed and definitely not what _you_ heard."

Kyminn replayed that conversation in his mind, considering it in this new light. It was, he admitted reluctantly, possible that there had been misunderstanding on both sides.

"Well," he finally said, "I'm glad you don't hate me any more."

"I never _hated_ you," she murmured. "Wanted to scream a few choice things outside your window at midnight perhaps...but hate's perhaps too strong a word…"

A corner of his mouth twitched upwards briefly and he sighed. "So where does that leave us?"

She hesitated and looked down at the tabletop between them. "Which 'us'?"

It was his turn to hesitate. "The four of us."

A glance upwards at him and a shrug. "I hope we can all get together, apologize and move on. We've been good friends for a long time and I'd hate to lose that over a stupid mistake."

A nod of acceptance, and then, softly, "And the two of us?"

She didn't look up. " _Is_ there a two of us?" Now she met his eyes. "I'll be honest Kyminn, I thought there was. More than thought, I hoped there was. I think that's why I was so...outrageously unreasonable...when I let my fear get the better of me."

He was still for a long moment. "I don't know if there was...we never really talked about it, did we? As for what the future holds...I think I'd like to see if it's possible, if you're willing."

Her smile was quiet, but genuine. "Like you, I'd like to try...to see where this takes us. I promise to communicate better in the future...to ask first before I do something stupid."

He surprised her with a chuckle. "You don't have a monopoly on stupid. Remind me to tell you about the time I got in a fist fight with a Bard over his sister-in-law-to-be…"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next few days saw a flurry of awkward conversations and more than a few chagrined apologies. The fact that they had been through a lot together and more than once seen each other when their friend was at his or her worst went a long way towards healing the rift. It helped too that they were simply too busy to waste the time or energy dwelling on the matter.

Kyminn, like the others, was working flat out. As the unseasonably warm fall faded into the icy rains that heralded winter, he resigned himself to never seeing his room while the sun was still in the sky. A day like this one which saw him back almost in time for supper was a welcome break, even if the weather seemed determined to make things as difficult as possible.

It was a matter of doctrine that, barring natural disaster, the Guard trained despite the weather. The worse the conditions, the more likely it was that a grizzled sergeant was likely to intone gleefully how this was "Good training weather!". This usually triggered a round of equally fervent declarations of "The more you sweat, the less you bleed", "The worse the training, the better the results" and similar hoary adages.

Still, from time to time even the Guard had to see reason and today had been one of those days. The downpour had turned the training field into a bog and between the sheets of water, the mist and the spatter, most troopers could barely see their horse's noses, much less past them. They might have persisted anyway, had not Kyminn reported that his Foresight predicted a rather ugly outcome if the training were to continue. _That_ , along with an outbreak of common sense, cut short the afternoon.

Aside from the fact that the trip back up the hill was on cobblestones rather than mud, there was nothing else really to recommend it. Trying to ensure Hugo maintained his footing and trying to keep the stallion calm in the dreadful conditions was almost as much work as a day of training would have been. Getting back to the barn was definitely a high point to Kyminn's day. Getting Hugo and the dogs rubbed down and the gear properly put away took nearly two candlemarks and by the time all was finished, Kyminn was wearing almost as much animal hair as the beasts themselves. He was also nearly dry, which made the prospect of trudging back to his room even less appealing. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of joining the dogs and horse in the barn, but his stomach won out. With a resigned sigh, he wrapped his damp cloak around himself and made the limping slog back to his quarters.

He was inside the vestibule, debating whether to go straight to the bathing room, divest himself of his sodden and filthy clothing and jump straight into a bath; or drip his way into his room, spreading the mess as he went. Eventually, he opted for the bath. The only downside was that he would have no clean clothing with him. Hopefully, the other residents wouldn't be too scandalized if he were to slip back to his room wearing only a towel.

He was clean, dry, and half way back to his room with the towel held firmly closed when the outer door swung open. He whispered a quick prayer to no particular deity, gathered up as much dignity as he could muster and resumed his limping - albeit somewhat faster - progress to his room.

The gods must have been listening, for the duo which swept in did _not_ contain Cydris. It did, however, contain her room-mates, two women from a healing temple a few days ride to the north east. Their order had sent them to Haven to help with the influx of gravely wounded. The two ladies, both a decade or so older than Kyminn, simply raised their eyebrows at the sight of a towel-clad resident in the hallway. Their nods of greeting were polite and professional.

They were several paces past when one of them tossed an offhand comment over her shoulder. "Kyminn?"

He managed to choke out a mostly polite "Yes?"

"You may wish to hurry," the tone was pure innocence. "Cydris was just a few yards behind us."

He was glad they were well behind him and couldn't see his furious blush, a blush which, he was sure, went from his toes to his hairline.

"Or," her companion added thoughtfully, "You could...not hurry. And greet her dressed like that…"

They were both still laughing when their door closed behind them.

He made it - barely. He had just managed to get inside and get his door closed when he heard footsteps in the hall. It was easy, at that point, to legitimately call out that he "was just changing" and would be with her in a moment. She did NOT, he told himself firmly, need to know what he had been wearing scant moments before.

When he opened to door, she simply held up a cloth-wrapped basket from which mouth-watering aromas emerged.

"I come bearing gifts," she announced.

He stepped back to let her in, inhaling a deep sniff of the savory odors. "Come in and be welcome!" One foot discreetly kicked the towel under the bed as he did so. Then he wondered why he'd bothered. A towel was a towel was a towel. Sign of a guilty conscience, he decided.

His room was an odd shape, but it suited his needs. A large divot in one wall had once held shelving for linen. Indeed, the cedar paneling still graced the alcove. The space was - just barely - large enough for a double bed, provided the person next to the wall didn't mind climbing over the other to get out.

A narrow passage led from the door back into the room, branching into an odd, T-shaped space. On the left was a sloped hollow, the underside of the stairs to the upper floor. The space was narrow and deep, being only four feet tall at its highest spot. As a living space it was useless, as a storage space it was awkward. As far as Kyminn was concerned though, it made a perfect dog house and a rag-filled mattress on the floor was all he needed to make the dogs comfortable. To the right was an irregular, more open area. There was just enough room for a shelf across the back wall to double as a writing desk and for a small table to squeeze in at the end of corridor.

As he helped her unpack the basket, he asked "How did you know I'd be back early?"

"We got word that training was cancelled when they brought in a casualty." As he looked up in alarm, she shook her head. "He came off his horse when the horse slid in the mud. Broke his collarbone and dislocated his shoulder. He'll be back at work in a few days." She sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh. "They'd just cancelled the training, so I knew you'd be coming back. I figured that it would take you awhile to get everyone cleaned up and get back here. To be honest, I wasn't sure of the timings - I just came as soon as my own shift was ended. I wasn't sure if I'd catch you or not."

Kyminn rather hoped the light was too dim for her to see the flush that her comment elicited. He waved a hand at the food and intoned gravely. "Bless you, my child!" and then adroitly moved his shin to avoid the kick she directed at him. Her eye caught his and they both laughed.

They ate mostly in silence, simply enjoying the small bubble of peace they were experiencing. Cydris was just picking into a flaky cherry concoction when she stopped. "Oops! I nearly forgot!" She set her fork down and dug through the cloths which had wrapped the basket. "These came to the Collegium for you and I said I'd deliver them." She dug out a bundle of half a dozen letters and passed them over to him.

Kyminn glanced at them and sighed. He pivoted in his chair depositing them in a similar pile on the desk behind him.

Cydris was clearly curious, but said only, "You have quite a few of those. Are you able to tell me what that's all about?"

Kyminn's frown was troubled as he chased an errant cherry around his plate. "I could," he said slowly. "I've spoken to the Dean and he's given permission for me to discuss it with you. The question is - do you really want to know?"

 _That_ startled her. "That sounds...ominous."

A twisted smile. "I know. And it is. Or could be." He thought for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.

"We've talked a lot over the past three years. You know that I never intended to come to Haven, but ended up accompanying Randen and Derris here after their injuries."

She nodded, "Yes. That's how you met Delassia and became involved in the specialized Healing of Companions. And how you ended up in Warford and all the other places you've been."

"True. But not complete. I've found myself on some very unexpected roads over the last five years. Part of that is that my combination of Gifts makes me uniquely suited for certain tasks, like the levy."

"Yes," it was droll, "More than one noble discovered it's a losing proposition to try hiding horses from someone who can question the horses directly."

That half smile again. "Exactly. But part of it is that I just...when something comes up that needs doing, something that I can help with...I tend to say yes. I'm...I guess you could say, I'm willing to serve Valdemar."

Her brow beetled. "That almost sounds like you're suggesting that the rest of us...don't…" It wasn't accusatory, but was clearly a question.

"Not what I meant and I'm sorry if it sounded like that. I always thought I'd end up my days as a quiet country Healer. Find a quiet country wife and settle down, telling stories to the grandkids about the storm of '87. That's a good vision and there's nothing wrong with that. A fellow could do a lot of good and be very happy living that life. Five years ago, it was all I wanted.

"Since then...I think I've grown up. I've certainly changed what I want out of life, learned to expect different things from myself. I've had lots of opportunities to say 'No, what you're asking isn't for me' - but I haven't so far."

Kyminn sighed. "Maybe I'm not saying this well. I know I've certainly gotten off track from what I meant to say. When this war is over, most people are going to want to go back home and forget it ever happened, to shut that door and nail it closed. I understand that. Wanting the stable and familiar is pretty sane, really.

"You're a gifted teacher, Cydris. You know as well as I do that you're going to be offered a post here - or somewhere else - eventually. If you can't see it, the rest of us certainly can. I don't see you settling down in some distant Healing Hall, treating croupy babies and gout when you have so much more to offer. I don't see you as being one of those people and tries to go back to life 'as it was'."

She thought about that for a moment and then, slowly, "I think I know what you're saying - how some people go in some directions, others go in others and it doesn't make them wrong, just...different. How sometimes we find we're okay with doing something different, taking on new challenges. What I don't understand is how any of this has to do with several dozen letters sitting on your desk."

"I do tend to ramble, don't I?" He took a long draw of his cooling cider. "In the past five years, I've 'said yes' to some rather...interesting requests. Those letters are part of one of them. Not all have to do with Healing and some of them have not been...completely safe."

"For some reason," it was ironic, "that doesn't really surprise me."

"Good. Because I want to enlist your help in this. You have a knack for analysis that serves where my intuitive leaps fall short. I'm willing - more than willing - to bring you into this. But it's up to you. This isn't - strictly speaking - a Healer's matter. If you feel you want to direct your talents elsewhere, I certainly won't fault you. It would, however, mean there are some things I'm not free to discuss with you."

"And you think I could be of use on this..project?"

"I do. You make my concepts better and play devil's advocate when I need it. And," his smile was engaging, "you're rather good company."

She snorted at that last, but simply said, "So, what is it that we're working on?"

"Missing children."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"WHAT!?" Kyminn was sure Cydris's shout had been heard on the far side of Companion's Field. She snapped her mouth shut, eyes bulging in shock.

"What do you mean 'missing children'?" This was at a much more suitable volume. "And how could you think I would hesitate to get involved?"

"When there's possibly a very long running, deeply entrenched and dangerous conspiracy involved." It was flat.

A hiss of dismay. "Good gods, Kym, are you sure?"

"No, and that's the worst part of it." Months of frustration were pent up in that growl. "It started with Renya."

"Renya?" Cydris was startled.

"Renya. She arrived as a traumatized nine year old whose Gifts had emerged under dreadful conditions. She needed time, support and counselling to start recovering." He shifted unhappily at the memory. "She was much too young to enter the Collegium full time and she wasn't close to emotionally ready. The Dean set her up with basic classes - reading, numbers and so forth. Just in the morning until she had time to adjust. In the afternoon, she was to spend time with the pages, being as normal a child as possible given the situation."

"Was there a problem with the pages?" Cydris grimaced - children can be cruel.

"Not at all. There was no problem with the pages at all. In fact, she spent absolutely no time with them at all." He paused to see if she would follow his train of reasoning.

"Normally, I'd assume she was playing hooky. But since that wouldn't trigger a secret investigation, I'm guessing there was much more to it than that."

A nod. "Yes. Someone - all she could remember was that it was 'an older boy in blue livery' brought her a message saying there was a schedule change and she wouldn't be spending time with the pages. Said more instructions would follow." His voice was grim. "Not only did no instructions follow, but the message never came from the Master of Pages. In fact, the request for her to spend time with them never reached the Master of Pages."

She drew her breath in in shock. "Someone intercepted the instruction and substituted one of their own? But who? And why?"

"That," and his voice was flat, "Is the question. We can find absolutely no reason why she was targeted. She has no money, no connections, no living family. The only thing that makes her unusual is that she's Gifted."

"Kyminn, dozens of Gifted arrive at the Collegia every year. Why her?"

He shrugged. "We're not sure. And by 'we' I mean Dean Tannel and the Heraldic Circle."

Cydris blinked a bit at hearing the Heralds were involved. "Is that why you became her guardian?"

"In part, yes." He was manifestly unhappy at the admission. "Having a candidate with very weak or no family ties isn't really all that uncommon actually. According to Tannel, they see one or two per year. Most of those, however, tend to be Heraldic Trainees for some reason. No one is really sure why that's the case. My theory is that it's because the Companions find them and bring them back. If there's an orphan child in the backside of Lake Evendim with the Bardic Gift, the likelihood of him or her making their way to the Collegium is pretty remote."

Cydris nodded thoughtful agreement. "And if it's a Healing Gift, then even if the child has no family, a village would probably arrange to send the child to the closest Healing temple just as a matter of self interest. They are definitely more likely to see the Healing Gift as being useful to them in the future."

"Exactly. Tannel brought the issue to the other Collegia and they are all making their own quiet inquiries. I've been looking into Healer's. As for Renya...one attempt has already been made to interfere with her tenure here. And although Trainees are under the supervision of their Deans there are more than a few highborns who feel that that supervision isn't nearly as tight as it should be. More than one Trainee has run afoul of some well-placed person's prejudices." He drained his now-cold cider. "Heraldic Trainees at least have their Companions to champion them and Heralds - simply by being who and what they are - tend to trust each other even if they may disagree personally over something. Renya didn't have anyone to speak for her and Healers are not necessarily as...unified...as the Heralds are. What happens if someone decides that Renya should be sent to an orphanage or boarding school until she's old enough for full-time enrollment?"

Cydris blanched at the thought. "Do you really think it's possible?"

A sour grimace. "I have no idea. But if I thought of it, you can be sure that this...puppet-master...has thought if it too. It's horribly reasonable actually, to suggest she be sent somewhere 'nice, with girls her own age and a suitable program of study until she's old enough to take on her Healing studies.' Who's to say she'd ever return? Or be the same personality when she did so?"

"Good grief Kyminn, you do have rather dark and paranoid thoughts don't you?" Her words were light, but her tone said she completely understood his reasoning.

"I was rather hoping you would tell me I was jumping at shadows." It was wry.

Unbound auburn hair shimmered in the lamplight as she shook her head. "I wish I were, but I think you're right - on all counts. And before you start beating yourself up too badly, remember that I know the real reason that you agreed to become Renya's guardian."

"Oh?"

"Because," it was quiet and emphatic. "Because you care. She's a lovely child Kyminn and it's easy to see how you came to care for her. If you didn't care about what happens to her, you wouldn't have gone to the magistrate's and signed those papers. I know you - you'd have found some other clever solution which would have achieved the same end."

"Possible.." The smile was warm at the memory. "She reminds me of my younger sister. That's one reason she and I decided to apply for guardianship instead of adoption. She's more a little sister than daughter and I didn't want her to feel like I was trying to take her family's place. Perhaps later, if she wants, we can reconsider. For now, it works for us." He shook his head, "What I did NOT expect was to find ourselves before the Heir!"

"I wish I had been there to see it! You probably looked like a stunned ox!"

"I probably did," he admitted. "Apparently Princess Selenay is doing her internship here in Haven and part of that includes spending a lot of time hearing cases down in the courts. Makes sense that it's a way to learn judgement and let people see their future Queen making good decisions."

"So was it difficult? Becoming Renya's guardian?"

"Not especially. It helped that the Collegium had already done a search to see if she had any living family. Those records were attested to by the Seneschal's Herald and entered as part of the record, but they didn't have to appear. We had letters from Dean Tannel and a few of the senior instructors in support of our application, but I think the only one she looked at was the Dean's."

The process itself had been simple, he reflected, but that didn't mean it wasn't intimidating. When he'd submitted his application, he had simply been told where to appear and at what date and time. It hadn't been until they'd arrived that they realized their case would be handled by the Heir. It was the first time in a very long time that he'd experienced stage fright.

 _"Your Highness, a petition from Healer Kyminn Danner to become the guardian of Healer-Trainee Renya Baden."_

 _The Heir had read the petition and supporting documents carefully, her expression grave._

 _"Healer Danner, this is a rather unusual request. As a Healer-Trainee, Renya Baden is now answerable to the Healer's Collegium, not any family member or guardian. I presume you yourself are a graduate from that same institution. There is no legal requirement for her to have a guardian. yet you have still made this petition. Why is that?"_

 _He'd thought long and hard about how to best answer that question without saying "We think someone wants to harm her", and he replied readily._

 _"Your Highness is correct - I am aware that as a Trainee, Renya's well being is the responsibility of her Dean. Your Highness, I believe that there is more to care and well-being than simply being 'in the care and custody of'. There's bonds of friendship and knowing someone will always be there. Instructors and year-mates pass out of our lives but the bonds of affection that we choose - those we will take with us forever. If I may be so honest, Your Highness, you Heralds have their Companions - you are never lonely even when you are most alone. The rest of us must make do with merely human bonds. Renya is my friend and I want to be there for her. Not just during her time at Healers, but always."_

 _The Heir looked thoughtful. "There are some who would be concerned at the idea of an adult man requesting custody of such a young child. While I admit that it is difficult to consider someone with ill intent doing that as a matter of public record, the matter must still be addressed. Would you be willing to state your intentions under a Truth Spell?"_

 _"Your Highness, I will answer any questions related to this petition." His response was immediate and if Selenay noticed that he'd put firm limits on the questioning, she said nothing. On the other hand, she was no doubt quite aware of the fact that Healers dealt with many confidential matters and would not be able to disclose such things publicly._

 _"Very well."_

 _Kyminn himself, of course, couldn't see the blue glow which surrounded him, but judging from the murmurs in the audience, it was readily visible. Renya had been warned that this might happen and although she pulled away slightly when it the glow first appeared, she immediately shifted back, one hand creeping into Kyminn's._

 _"State your name and occupation for the record please."_

 _"My name is Kyminn Danner. My occupation is that of a Healer, currently stationed in Haven. I work mostly with the Guard, but I also instruct some of the senior students."_

 _"And why are you before the court today, Healer Danner?"_

 _"I have petitioned for guardianship of Renya Baden. She is a Healer Trainee, enrolled at the Healer's Collegium. It is our understanding that she has no remaining family." He gave her hand a quick squeeze of support._

 _"In your own words, tell us why you are petitioning for guardianship and what you believe it entails and entitles you to."_

 _This was tricky! He took a deep breath. "Renya has no family. She has only the friends and the staff of the Collegium. I don't want guardianship so that I can control her future, I want to have the legal standing to support her future. You asked me what I think this means. Very well, I think it means that my shoulder is going to be wet when she's had a hard day and is missing her family. I think it means loud gatherings of her friends at her Birthing Day celebrations. I think it means rolled eyes when I explain to her that yes, she does have to learn how to calculate dilute concentrations. It means trying to answer life's hard questions, listening to her frustrations, sharing her successes and helping her manage her failures. It means remembering her favourite colour is lilac, not pink, and that she hates scarves but likes colourful hats. It's interrogating suitors," he had to pause as a ripple of laughter rolled through the room, "And then keeping my mouth shut when she makes a choice I don't agree with. It's sleepless nights and chaos and joy and life. That's what this means, Your Highness." He wound down, a helpless shrug. "It means CARING."_

 _The crowd gave a sigh as the blue glow vanished. Selenay bent forward slightly towards Renya and, somehow, managed to become less 'Royal' and more 'Selenay'. "Renya, according to the law, we don't need you to agree with this. Dean Tannel has said he thinks this is a good idea, that you would benefit from it. I want to know what you think. You heard what Kyminn said - you'd be getting a big brother, or maybe bossy uncle. Someone who gets to have an opinion on your life yes, but someone who has said he's willing to be there for you. Is this what you want?"_

 _Renya glanced at Kyminn and at his nod of encouragement, said quietly, "Your Majesty," (no one bothered to correct her),"Yes it is. Kyminn is my friend, Your Majesty. He helped me when I was first missing my family so much. I still miss them - he says I always will but that he'll help me learn how to miss them in a different way that doesn't hurt so much. I think maybe he's taught some of that already because things are easier now. Please don't make me give up Kyminn, Your Highness. He's shown me the most wonderful garden and taught me to play dodge-tag. He even introduced me to a Companion!" Selenay's lips twitched at that last._

 _"Yes please, I'd like to become Kyminn's ward." Renya bobbed in an impromptu attempt at a curtsey._

 _Selenay sat back and her invisible mantle of authority closed in about her once again. A single rap of the gavel and the Heir announced her ruling._

 _"It is Our first Finding that the minor child Renya Baden has been found to have no living relatives within at least the sixth degree. As such, she is formally declared an orphan and a ward of the Crown of Valdemar._

 _"It is Our second Finding that Renya Baden, having been identified as possessing the Healing Gift AND having shown her willingness to be trained in the use of said Gift, is declared to be in the care and custody of the Healer's Collegium, said care and custody represented at this time by Dean Tannel._

 _It is Our third Finding that the law permits any person, regardless of birth, be admitted into the Collegium provided they meet the requirements. Such admissions may, in cases where entrance to the Collegium may affect matters of succession, be subject to petition before the crown. This is because once admitted, the Collegium and, by secondment, the Crown of Valdemar, become the sole and sworn liege of the member. As such, the Crown, and by right of delegation, the Collegium, is the primary custodian and holds right-of-fealty with Renya Baden._

 _It is Our fourth and final Finding that there exists no conflict between the custody of the Collegium and the petition before Us today. The powers granted by guardianship, as with those granted by right of birth to parents, or between spouses in matrimony, are, by law, powers secondary to the rights of the crown as represented in the Collegium. The law makes no distinction as to whether such relationship existed prior to enrollment or afterwards."_

 _A final, decisive rap of the gavel._

 _"The Petition is granted. Healer Kyminn Danner is hereby awarded guardianship of the minor child, Healer Trainee Renya Baden."_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N So...I'm going back to school. For the next several months, I will be taking one or two night classes at a time. These shouldn't be writing intensive, but they will require a fair bit of time (my first textbook is over 700 pages...). I will do my best to keep up with everything, but I'm pretty sure you don't want Chapter 15 to be "An analysis of best practice for aerodrome safety inspections."_

Chapter 9

Her hand, warm on his, broke him out of his reverie.

"Kyminn, tell me about these missing children of yours." Her voice was troubled.

He sighed and began to stack the now-empty dishes back into the basket. "There's not much to tell and almost as little to go on. After the incident with Renya, the Dean asked me to look into whether hers was an isolated case. He thought that might help point to why she was targeted."

"And did it?" She helped him collect the last of their mess.

"It didn't help us learn more about Renya, but it did point out another four possible - and these are tenuous - possible cases where something similar happened." He ticked them off as he enumerated them.

"One was a questionable fire, another a fortuitous - and very distant - inheritance. A third was a possible suspicious accident and another a traveller who never arrived. Since that time, I've sent out letters to every Healing temple, hall and post that I could find, asking for the names of Healer candidates they've identified in the last ten years along with any information as to whether they planned to come on to Haven or train elsewhere."

"And?" she gave the table a final swipe and sat back down across from him once again.

"And..we Healers are a fairly meticulous lot, as it turns out. I expect it comes from having to keep accurate patient records. I've gotten dozens of letters, most of them very lengthy." A dry smile. "More than one senior Healer sent a complete training record of _every_ Trainee they've had in the past decade. It's a lot to wade through." Kyminn reached under the desk and produced a basket of paperwork, pinned and bundled together with a page of Kyminn's own notes on the cover.

With a glance at him for permission, Cydris leafed through the documents. "And you say there is more?"

He sighed. "Lots. That's another reason I came to you for help. I've already identified a few names that I should follow up on, but there's a long way to go. Worse, I'm still trying to find a pattern to any of it."

"I'm assuming you've tried sorting them by region?" She was reading Kyminn's own cover pages before setting the bundles aside.

A nod. "That was one of the first things I looked at. After some of the problems I encountered doing the levy, looking to see if these were confined to the demesnes of any particular nobles seemed a good place to start. That was a dead end - the missing - and I'm still not even sure how many of those there actually are - are spread out across multiple holdings. I showed the list to Randen and he took it to a few other Heralds. They couldn't find any link either. In fact, in several cases, the nobles in question are far from allies and often working for opposing interests."

"Hmm. That was my next question. I guess it was too much to hope that there was a single leader or group behind all this."

"Exactly. I checked to see if a particular temple was involved, or even if the senior Healers had anything in common. Another dead end. I mean, yes, there are a few cases of temples of the Three having questionable results, but…"

"But they are the most common of the Healing orders, so it makes sense they are over-represented," she finished for him.

A smile. "Right. I did a bit of asking around and while it's far from complete, I can't find any real connection amongst the Healer-Priests that lead those temples. Aside from being about the same age within a decade or two, they trained in different places and entered their priesthood at different times. It's possible a link will show up in time but..." A shrug. "That doesn't explain all the other cases."

She shook her head and stacked the bundles back in their basket. "Kyminn, this is a massive project. Aside from Renya, how sure are you that you're not chasing shadows?"

Kyminn limped back to the desk and produced a slim folder. He pulled out two pages and slid them over to her. "Because of these."

"What am I looking at?" The pages contained names and a concise set of locations and dates.

"Two missing children." It was grim. "She," he tapped one of the sheets, "was an older Trainee. She was actually a midwife's apprentice before her Gifts appeared. When the village realized she had a Gift, they arranged for her to go to Haven. She checked in with two Healing temples and a Guard post on the way. She checked out of the Guardpost one morning and never arrived at her next stop. The Guard sent out search parties and later asked the Herald on circuit to check with other holdings in the area in case she'd changed her mind and decided to settle somewhere else."

"I take it they found nothing?"

"You take it correctly. The only reason I'm so sure about this case is that one of the Heralds that Randen showed the list to was the Herald involved. He remembered the case very clearly and made sure it went into his circuit report." A grimace. "Unfortunately, we don't have access to those - yet. I have a feeling that if we could lay out Healer, Guard, Herald - all the area reports and compare them, we'd get a much more complete picture."

"You'd get a much bigger headache too," Cydris pointed out. "That's a tremendous amount of information. Even assuming the Heralds would let you see those reports. Some of them contain sensitive information."

"I know. I'm thinking I'm going to have to go to Talamir or ask Tannel to bespeak Dean Elcarth about getting access to those." He sighed. "I haven't had the time to make the request, and there's really no point if I'm not even through Healer's yet."

She cocked her head and looked at him, her expression bemused as he casually named some of the most powerful people in the kingdom. "You really do move in rarified circles, don't you?"

He flushed. "Not intentionally I assure you. It just sort of...happened. And I can't just knock on a door and walk in. I send a meeting request just like everyone else."

"Except that the rest of us don't send meeting requests to the King's Own." Her eyes twinkled.

"I assure you, that's very much a last resort," he assured her quickly.

"I know, I was teasing you. Anyway, tell me about the other one."

"That one…" and his eyes were dark with anger. "That one was almost certainly murder but we can't prove it."

"Murder?! Are you...I was going to ask you if you were sure, but of course you are or you wouldn't have said it."

"Allegedly, it was bandits. A trader's wagon was attacked. The trader, trainee and all three members of the trader team - all cousins - were killed. The Guard who investigated said definitively that it was a known group who had been operating in the area. As proof they had some recovered bits of gear that matched, along with the fact that their tracker positively identified the shoe prints of the bandit's horses. Apparently there were a couple of animals that were very distinctive."

"But you don't agree."

"No, and now the Guard agrees with me. When I heard about the attack, I checked the reports of the nearby Guard posts for more information on these bandits. I was hoping their presence might explain a couple of other things I was looking at. It turns out that the same day that they were slaughtering the trader, the bandit's camp was being raided by a different Guard outpost. One that was 50 miles away. The bandits resisted of course; none of them survived to be questioned."

"That's...fairly strong proof, if you assume that the attacks did in fact happen the same day and there was only one group of bandits in the area."

"They did and there was," he confirmed. "But what really clinched it was the horses."

"What do you mean, 'the horses?'"

"There weren't any. Their tracks were everywhere and _their_ tracker recognized them. But the horses weren't there. In fact, they were never recovered. All of the bandit bodies were accounted for; everyone is sure that no-one took the horses and escaped. The horses disappeared a day or two _before_ the Guard got the tip about where the camp was. I suspect that what was supposed to happen was that the trader was supposed to be 'attacked' and then the bandit raid happen a day or two later. If that had been the case, no one would have been the wiser. Instead, somewhere the timing got messed up and both events happened the same day, which instead of blaming the bandits, rather proves their innocence."

"And proves that someone murdered five people and tried to cover it up." She shook her head, appalled.

"And murdered five people. The Guard has reopened the case, of course, but this happened seven years ago. The odds that anything will turn up after this time is…"

"Highly unlikely. Gads, Kyminn. What have you stumbled across?"

"I don't know, and frankly, it scares me."

"That makes two of us." She hesitated, then said reluctantly. "Are we...is Healer's the only College involved?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I'm glad I don't have to investigate them as well. There's a questionable drowning of a possibly-prospective Chosen, but that's the only one I know about. Randen, Tannel and I have discussed this quite a bit over the past moon or so, trying to figure out if that's true or not. We suspect the answer may be that yes, it is."

"Why, Kyminn? Why us? Why Healers?"

"Several reasons. First, Heraldic Gifts are often less apparent than Healing. Those with Healing Gifts, sooner or later, tend to be drawn to situations where the Gift makes its presence known. Mindspeech...oftentimes, the first time a Herald is aware he has that Gift is when He is Chosen. Unless it's a very strong Gift and he's accidentally overhearing other people's thoughts, he might not even be aware he has it."

"True enough. Herald Trainees are routinely assessed to see what Gifts they have, simply because they don't always just...manifest."

"That was our thinking as well. Another reason why we think that prospective Heralds aren't being targeted is because they are much harder to identify. While I'm sure nearly every child in Valdemar day-dreams about being a Herald some day," he paused to flash a grin at her, "the fact is that for many - if not most - being Chosen comes as rather a surprise. Anyone with the aptitude and enough hard work can become a non-Gifted Healer or a travelling minstrel. No one can 'work his way' into becoming a Herald. So no one can point to an individual and say 'She's going to be a Herald' and target her. And once they are Chosen, of course…"

"There's the Companion. If this...Group X...is relying on secrecy, then attacking newly Chosen would be the _last_ thing they'd want. I see what you're saying and I agree that your reasoning makes sense - prospective Healers are much easier to target than prospective Heralds. So where does that leave Bards?"

"Bards, like Healers, are pretty visible. Someone with outstanding musical talent stands out, even if those around her aren't sure if she has a Gift or not. This is the one we really chewed on and, to be fair, I'm pretty sure the Bardic Collegium would disagree with our conclusions.

"It sounds rather crass, but it rather boils down to money. In some respects, Bards have to work much harder to make a living than a Healer does. A Master Bard may be an attractive asset for a noble to covet, but those positions are few and far between. A Bard, more than any other Gifted, is much more likely to have to, well, sing for his supper, as it were. They are much more likely to spend a lot of their career on the road and their hire is often seen as a luxury, not a necessity.

"Healers, on the other hand...everybody _needs_ us. Whether it's at a noble estate where one eats venison and paid in gold or in a small village where one is eats turnips and is paid in coppers...there's always a place for a competent Healer. Always."

"Granted, and I admit, I don't think I'd like the...uncertainty that can come with the Bardic Gift, but how does all this relate to your problem?"

"Luxury versus necessity. We think that Healers are more likely to be seen as an asset to the kingdom. Taking Healers out of play affects the welfare of the population as a whole. It really does weaken the crown's ability to care for the populace. To be fair to Bards, they play an important role in spreading information and providing context to what people are hearing. They not only set the tone of the message, but they report back on what people are saying and feeling. Removing Bards means that people are less completely informed, which would make it easier for untruth to prosper. However, some of that problem is offset by Heralds on circuit. Not all of it, not by a long shot, but there is some overlap there."

Kyminn sighed. "It's possible that the same thing is happening with Bardic in an attempt to reduce the King's ability to communicate with the people. Tannel and Talamir have taken their concerns to Bardic, but that's as much as I know. To be honest, I haven't got the time to check on them too. At the end of the day, we're still missing the why. Is it hatred of the Gifted? Is it coming from inside Valdemar or from without? Is it an attempt to bleed the crown? Or just an attack on those with special status?"

"I would have suggested," Cydris said thoughtfully, "that maybe it was something like the Tedrels do - capture the Gifted and then use them up, but I don't think that's what's going on here. The dead traders - that's the sort of...collateral damage...that the Tedrels and their like wouldn't even bat an eye at. Unfortunately, the same could be said for a lot of unsavory sorts, although it does tell us some things about what Group X is prepared to do in furtherance of their cause. And if the purpose was to make use of the Gifts, then the fact that you've got possibly three deaths is a fairly strong argument that it's not the case."

"I'm curious," Kyminn ventured, "why you chose to refer to 'Group X'. Was that intentional or random?"

She thought about it for a moment. "It may have been random initially, but the more I think about it, the more I believe you're dealing with a group." It was her turn to enumerate.

"First, the time frame involved. If this were a single person, it would mean he or she was spending a lot of time moving from place to place, managing these...events. Something like that, as well as the same person being present in multiple places, would stand out. Second," she ticked another finger, "Information. Identifying _when_ someone Gifted will be on the road, or the fact that a Gift has been identified...that argues for a very wide-spread information net. If this single person were on the road all the time, setting up attacks on Gifted...he or she wouldn't have time to do all this information gathering. Not on his or her own."

A third finger. "Next is space, and this is tied to both of the other two. These incidents cover a tremendous area of ground. I simply don't see how it's possible for one person to learn about a new Trainee, arrange something, and then be in place to act - not by themselves."

"Finally," and the fourth finger bent down. "Resources. Managing all this information...arranging the bandit attack...arranging the disappearance of the midwife's apprentice...that takes a tremendous amount of resources. If it _is_ a single person, then he or she has very, very deep pockets. This involves a lot of moving parts, thugs for hire, and an incredibly complex intelligence organization." A slow, somber shake of her head. "Kyminn, either this is a very, very high placed noble, or a nation-state. It's the only thing that fits."

"Damn."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Has anyone else heard about "The Hills have spies" yet? Mag and Amilie's son is an Animal Mindspeaking spy…Hm. An Animal Mindspeaker as a spy. Novel concept.

Looking forward to it!

Chapter 10

The few candlemarks they had managed to eke out fled quickly and maddeningly unproductively. Cydris managed to read a few of the files, but had no insights to add. In the end, they simply added her notes to the stack and agreed to work on it as time permitted.

As winter settled it's white cloak around the city, Kyminn began to see a respite. The rehabilitated horses were gradually dispersed and the Guard required less and less of his time. Even now, with winter in full force, goods, men and animals were beginning to move from the city towards the south.

Freed of the need to make the long treks several days a sennight, Kyminn willingly took on other tasks. He took on two groups of senior Trainees, adding an Ethics seminar and a class on Rehabilitation to his schedule. At Delassia's request, he began to work with her on expanding her writings on the healing of Companions. Unsurprisingly, the Heralds and Companions he consulted found him rather more congenial than the brilliant but irascible Senior Healer.

Also benefitting from Kyminn's extra time was Renya. The Dean had decided that she would be moved to full time studies by spring, but in the meanwhile, there were still large blocks of her time unclaimed. Kyminn's suggestion that she begin equitation lessons was enthusiastically accepted. His other, rather more serious, suggestion that she begin self-defense classes, was much less welcome.

As a Healer Trainee, weapons work was by no means mandatory, and although Kyminn was her guardian, he had no grounds to insist. It wasn't that she had any fundamental opposition to the idea of using weapons. She was actually fairly indifferent in that regard. No, her reluctance hinged on two different points.

The first of these was that she had no interest in the activity. The idea of spending several candlemarks a sennight getting hot, sweaty, and sore held minimal appeal, and like most 10 year olds, she saw absolutely no reason to do something so unpleasant if she didn't have to.

The second of these was more understandable, although Kyminn wasn't sure if her objection to the Karsite Weapons-Second was entirely due to that worthy's heritage or if it was simply an excuse she'd attached in order to avoid the whole task. Given what the Tedrels had done to her family, he had no choice but to take her objection at face value and accept that she may well have qualms about working with anyone from Karse.

The resulting discussions took nearly a fortnight to resolve and resulted in their first significant fight. Whether it was multiple argumenta or one that simply lasted for a fortnight - that part he never did figure out. It was the first time in years that he'd dealt with a child's temper and his first real test in the role of quasi-parent. He had a sudden wish to apologize to his own parents for the sins of his younger self.

"Ren…" Kyminn grabbed his temper with both hands and tried to throttle it. Matching her volume would NOT help the situation.

"Ren," he tried again. "This is something that you need to do."

"I don't! Healers and Empaths don't have to do weapons training! The Dean says so!" She glared at him, daring to challenge the Dean's authority.

"The Collegium", he emphasised the word, "doesn't require Healer Trainees to take weapons training. It does, however, strongly encourage it. In addition," he raised his voice to drown out the shout he saw her about to unleash, "the Dean agrees with me that you should take the self-defense training."

"But whyyyyy….?!" It was a drawn out, petulant wail. "I don't want to!"

Kyminn hesitated. Both he and the Dean agreed that they had no idea why someone had tried to interfere with Renya's training. They were still unsure whether she had been a target of opportunity or if she had a dedicated foe. They weren't even sure if she was still at risk. Should he tell her that both he and the Dean wanted her to be able to defend herself just in case she had a singular, committed enemy out there somewhere? Would it seem prudent or leave her living a life where she jumped at shadows?

"It's a skill that may come in useful," he temporized. "You know that Healers often end up working far from help and unfortunately, not everyone respects our uniform. It's a skill that could save your life some day." And dear gods, how he hoped that such an eventuality was years yet in the future!

"Could. Some day," she pounced on the qualifiers and brandished his words like trophies. "I might not. And I could change my mind and do it next year. Or the year after."

"But you have the time now. It's too cold for us to walk in the gardens and this is something we could do together." He wriggled his cane and added "I haven't done any training since the accident and even then, I was too busy to get in much practice. I've got a lot to relearn."

"You train. I'll watch. But I don't want to do it and I don't have to do it. So I'm not going to." The stubborn set of her chin and her hunched shoulders would have been comical if the whole thing wasn't so infuriating.

"I will train. And you will participate." His glare matched hers.

"Or what? You can't make me!"

He shrugged. "Alright."

She had her mouth open to retort and instead closed it, giving him a wary look. "What?"

He shrugged again. "I said alright. You don't have to do anything that the Collegium doesn't require as part of your studies."

"So…? What….?"

"Well, if you're not going to do things that are not required, then that includes your equitation lessons." It was calm.

"You...you...wouldn't…" her jaw worked but no other words came out as her indignation overtook her speech.

"I can and I will." Kyminn leaned forward and his voice was firm. "Renya, I am doing my best to help you build the best life for yourself that you possibly can. That means giving the tools and skills you need to be successful. And part of that includes riding and self defense. If you won't take the one, you can't have the other."

As he expected she would, she burst into tears. "That's not fair!"

"I expect that it seems that way to you. And maybe, in same ways, you're right. But I believe that it's absolutely necessary. I talked this over with the Dean. He agrees that I can have a lot of input into the open parts of your schedule and this is what we came up with. Renya...there are very good reasons that Healers are not required to take weapons training. A lot of it has to do with reasons of mental health, but it includes ethics as well. Those reasons are burdens I'm not willing to put on your shoulders just yet. Those concerns do not apply to you and, under other circumstances, you would be enrolled in the defense classes as part of your training. Maybe not weapons work, but the defense classes - for exercise if nothing else.

"However, we are at war and no one knows what the future holds. So I'm going to do my best to make sure you are as best prepared as possible. For anything."

"It's still not fair!" The frustrated sobs had diminished and he hoped her fundamental good sense was starting to reassert itself.

"Life is not fair. Life is...life. We do our best and sometimes it's hard." A resigned shrug. "There's absolutely nothing I can say or do to make that any less true."

"But what about the Weapon's Second? The Karsite? Will I have to take lessons from him?" It was small.

"The Weapons-Second, Herald Alberich", the tone was a warning, "is just that - a Herald. Companions cannot Choose wrongly. This man, this Herald - he's not your enemy. He could not be a Herald if he were. He is simply a Herald who was born far away from here, in a different place. He's not Tedrel, he's not someone who makes war on us. Just a Herald."

"I...the idea frightens me…" uncertain words from her tear-streaked cheeks.

"Renya, the idea of getting in a serious fight or a battle should frighten you. It should never be something you want, it should just be something you learn to handle as safely as possible. You don't go sticking your hand in a fire - you learn to control it and use it as a tool. This is the same idea."

"And if I do this I get to keep riding?" A hand scrubbed her wet cheeks.

He nodded. "Yes. Let's give it six moons and then we'll see. There will still be a lot to learn on both fronts, but at least we'll have a good idea of where to go next."

"I still don't think you're being fair," a final, petulant mutter.

"Fair enough. I'll see you tomorrow after lunch at the salle. Wear an old uniform, you'll be getting dirty."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

His hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement, then firmly nudged her towards the door of the salle.

With a final disgruntled look over her shoulder at him, Renya sighed and pushed the door open.

Kyminn shook his head as he limped behind her. It was easy to forget that, Gifted or not, many of the Trainees were still very much children. Granted, the years they spent in the Collegium would help develop the maturity required to handle the responsibility their Gifts demanded, but in the meantime, they could be as distractible, thoughtless, and petulant as any other child.

A deep breath to restore his center and his senses were flooded with the familiar environment of the salle. Sweat, sawdust, metal, oil and leather all blended in its distinctive bouquet. He was surprised at how much he'd missed it!

Renya was still and quiet, taking it all in; the thudding of practice swords on pells, the quiet count of some drilling Heraldic Trainees, the crash and clatter as two guardsmen sparred against one another. Kyminn saw her gaze fall on a tall, scarred man in dark grey, saw her brow furrow in thought. Finally, the very faintest of nods and he felt the shoulder beneath his hand relax ever so slightly. Whatever it was she'd seen, it seemed the Weapons-Second no longer alarmed her.

As they waited for Herald Alberich, Kyminn found himself mentally nodding in approval as the Herald worked his way towards the Healers. A headshake of rebuke at some sloppy footwork here, a repositioning of hands on a practice sword there...nothing escaped those grave eyes.

"Told you were coming, I was." The cadence fell oddly on Kyminn's ear, but the meaning was plain enough.

A nod. "Healer Kyminn, Trainee Renya." He indicated his weak leg with a rueful wave. "I haven't been able to do any sword work for several moons now and I very much think I'm going to have to reconsider things a good deal."

"Your purpose, for training, what is?"

"Both of us need defense training. Renya…" he paused for a second. "The Dean and I would like to see her start with unarmed self defense. Weapons work may come in the future."

Alberich regarded the Healer Trainee, his expression unreadable. "Training have you? Knife, sword, bow - know you these?"

At her wordless headshake, Alberich gave a short nod. "Bad habits none then have you. Falls then, to start you will." A gesture and one of the students in grays broke off her drilling, wending her way across the salle with unconscious ease. Kyminn was surprised to see this 'Trainee" was fully adult.

"Herald Trainee Jeri, for today your instructor will be. Self defense knows she well."

The Trainee listened attentively to Alberich's instructions, then, with an encouraging wave, led Renya to some tumbling mats at the far end of the salle.

"So." The growled word dragged Kyminn's attention back to the Weapons-Second. A dark glower demanded answers.

Kyminn met the Herald's gaze levelly. "Herald Alberich, I would ask that your Companion bespeak the Companion Taver. He can explain why, exactly, we're here."

The resulting pause was a long one as the Herald conferred with his Companion. Finally, that dark gaze settled back on Kyminn.

"So. Danger, you believe there is." At Kyminn's nod, Alberich gave a shrug. "Train her, I will. Holds to break, escape to seek. Fear you the knife? The attack in the night?"

Kyminn hesitated, then gave a shrug of frustration."To be honest, I don't know. That's the hardest thing about this - we don't know much of anything. Maybe I'm jumping at shadows."

"Training, wasted is not. Learn this, she will." The stone gaze shifted to Kyminn's walking stick. "New skills, learn you should."

Glad of the chance to move away from the gnawing puzzle for a time, Kyminn simply said, "Yes. I haven't kept up on my sword work and, to be honest, I'm not sure if I should." A grimace. "It's such an obvious vulnerability that I'm not sure I want to let myself get that closely engaged."

This time, the frown was thoughtful. "From the country, your accent says. Know you the bow? Hunting you have done?"

Kyminn's strangled bark of laughter merely caused the redoubtable Herald's frown to deepen. Kyminn explained, "My Foresight only shows me when non-humans are about to be injured or killed. And only when humans are involved somehow."

The Herald absorbed this for a moment. "So. No hunting."

With an unfeigned shudder of memory, Kyminn shook his head. "Nooo, Herald, no hunting."

"If defense you would learn, then the staff. Weapon and tool it should be. Staff and sword, for vulnerable you are. Weakness, a foe will seek. Bow too, for to hunt."

Kyminn paused, then nodded slowly as the Herald's meaning sunk in. Alberich did not expect the Healer to be hunting animals.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Renya never went so far as to admit that Kyminn had been right about the weapons training, but her sighs and glares of protest eventually subsided and she began to show signs of enjoying the class.

Kyminn and Cydris took to eating dinner together whenever their schedules permitted, which was usually several nights a sennight. Evenings were usually spent poring over letters and records, trying to piece together the maddening bits and pieces.

A map of Valdemar, along with a basket holding more detailed images, became permanent fixtures in his quarters. Neat pins and notes began to bloom on the map as they struggled to find meaning in the chaos.

"So, what do we know for sure?" Cydris's eyes were red from poring over crabbed handwriting.

Kyminn sighed and summed it up again, for what felt like the thousandth time. "We have nine confirmed missing as either dead or unaccounted for. There are another dozen or so that we strongly suspect to belong on that list, but we can't quite prove it. Finally, there's seven or eight that are probably legitimate, but have enough doubt that we can't rule them out."

"And you still want to include Andleton?" She stretched and Kyminn took a moment to appreciate the view.

"I think so," he pulled his gaze away and looked thoughtfully at the map. "I know it's kind of extreme, but…"

Andleton was a small mountain town with a well-established Healing Temple that happened to be the retirement location-of-choice for several former instructors from the College. When the Healing Gift had been identified in a youth in a nearby village, it had simply made sense for the youth and his family to relocate to Andleton. That a late-spring avalanche had wiped out the travellers, a Waystation and a large section of the road was - possibly - simply a coincidence.

Kyminn was of the "not a coincidence" camp. Cydris, being less familiar with life in the mountains, was less sure. And although Group X had shown a ruthless willingness to incur additional casualties in pursuit of their {still unknown} ends, the more recent disappearances had shown a good deal more subtlety. Last winter's avalanche was a marked departure from the techniques in recent years.

"It's almost as though our foe has evolved," Cydris's words mirrored his own thoughts. "In the first years, there was a lot of...violence. Fires, drownings, bandit attacks - that sort of thing. Property damage, other casualties - they didn't seem to care. Now though...now they're doing a better job of covering their tracks. It's as though they've refined their skills over time."

He gave a grunt of agreement and stacked the night's work into the appropriate piles. "I can't help but think that there's something in here, something we haven't seen yet, that will give us some insight and help us get to the bottom of who - and why."

"Me too". A sigh. "I'm just going to step out to the bathing room. I'll be back in a moment."

He gave a nod to show he'd heard and started unlacing his boots. That Cydris stayed the night whenever their schedules allowed had been a deliberate choice on their parts, and one that he, for one, certainly welcomed. He'd wanted to bring it up for quite some time, usually while enjoying her kisses, but had been tentative about how to ask her.

However, while he'd been busy over-thinking things, waiting for the right moment, Cydris had been much more practical and direct.

So when, a few sennights before, she'd quietly advised him that she'd been taking a particular herbal blend for the required moon, and that while she certainly approved of their current level of engagement she would also be very interested in more...he'd simply given himself a mental kick and agreed.

War and missing children aside, he was astonishingly happy.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"...Which explains why no one could find where the snow sculptures were hidden. No one would ever think to look for a snow sculpture _indoors!_ " Tysen raised his mug in a flourish to the authors of the prank. A collection of hilariously ugly snow creatures had been seen at various places throughout the Collegia - usually pressed up against some unexpecting victim's window.

No one had been able to figure out who had been doing it or how it had been accomplished until that morning, when a Trainee had come across the 'beast', hidden under a pile of cleaning rags in closet. The creators had gathered up a large quantity of the soap bars provided by the Collegium and then shaved them down. The resulting flakes had been dissolved into a paste which was then spread over a wire frame, resulting in a 'snow beast' that could be hidden indoors.

The fact that it was soap, and easy to re-sculpt, meant that it was simple to reshape the creature as many times as the pranksters desired, which explained why there were so many of the beasts. Palace groundskeepers had spent many fruitless candlemarks looking for the perpetrators, certain that carving such elaborate chunks of ice would take substantial time and tools.

The pranksters would, in all likelihood, never be discovered. It was Midwinter break at the Collegium and the perpetrators had most likely slipped away, and were even now at home, regaling their families with the tale. The "beast" had been melted down and the Housekeeper was busy reclaiming her soap.

The friends laughed, and joined Tysen in his salute to the clever, but harmless, prank. The four of them were squeezed into Kyminn's room, enjoying a quiet meal. The spacing was a bit awkward, but there was ample room for all. The dogs had claimed the bed and were alert for any tidbits which might be lobbed in their direction.

"Sorry to change our plans at the last minute," Kyminn apologized. "I know we had planned to meet at the Willow, but honestly, I just didn't want to make the trip."

"That makes two of us," Eiven declared. "It's downright nasty out and the prospect of having to make our way back in it would surely have ruined our enjoyment of the evening!"

When both Cydris and Tysen nodded their agreement, Kyminn felt a little better. The four of them had been trying to have a quiet chance to reconnect for some time now, but between one thing and another, this was the first opportunity they'd had in ages. He hadn't wanted to cancel, and none of them felt like visiting in the common areas.

It was a quietly unspoken thing amongst the Healers and Heralds who'd spent any significant time at the front. Most found the disconnect between the horrors of the war and the indifferent comforts of Haven to be unsettling and jarring. Each of the four could have recounted several instances of highborn, servants or even other Healers who seemed incapable of believing that "things were really all that bad." Sometimes, one just needed the company of someone else who understood.

As Midwinter Feasts went, theirs had been a quiet affair, but they'd all thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The gifts they exchanged tended to be practical - scarves and mittens were a popular choice. The exception was Tysen's gift - the other three had pooled their resources and commissioned a lined wool and canvas cloak in Healer green, one fully long enough and broad across the shoulders to fit his oversized frame. His beaming smile and effusive thanks at having something nice that wasn't 'make do and remade to fit' told them they'd chosen aright.

"So where's Renya? I'd have thought she would be here?" Eiven looked around suddenly, as though he'd somehow missed noticing her before now.

"We had breakfast together and then went for a ride. We exchanged presents afterwards. Cydris helped me pick out a matching comb and brush set with her initials on it, plus a couple of new books." Kyminn smiled in recollection. "I invited her to join us, but she had already volunteered to help with foal watch." A sigh. "I think she wanted a little bit of space today and she won't get too down, hanging around Companions. Besides," he nodded to the two dogs lounging on the bed. "Bull's with her. She knows that I'm using him to check in on her."

"Very appropriately sneaky of you," Eiven grinned his approval. "Keep this up and you'll have this parenting thing figured out before you know it!"

"Heavens forfend!" He threw up his hands in mock horror as they laughed.

As they relaxed into quiet chatter, Tysen nudged Kyminn. The tall Healer indicated the map stretched across the wall.

"What's that all about? Planning your next vacation?"

"You mean his _first_ vacation, don't you?" Eiven quipped.

Tysen unfolded himself and wandered over, examining the map with alert interest. Pins, marked with little pieces of coloured cloth, marched across the surface of Valdemar.

Kyminn and Cydris exchanged a brief flicker. They'd discussed whether or not to include the others but had, reluctantly, opted not to do so just yet.

"If we don't win the war, then none of this matters," Cydris had pointed out. "And right now, their attention should be on the work they're both doing to prepare for next spring. Let's not throw any more resources at this right now."

Kyminn took up the response to Tysen's question. "It's something I'm working on. Not much I can say about it unfortunately."

"Huh." It was an absent grunt as Tysen peered at a section of the map. "Did you know," he said thoughtfully as a finger traced a section of track, "That is is where I grew up?"

The glance Kyminn and Cydris exchanged was sharper now, but Kyminn said merely "Really? I think I'd forgotten that." He joined his friend, peering around Tysen's bulk.

"Oh yes. Rocky hills and brush land." A sweep of fingers across a section. "This is all sheep country. Lots of good wool comes out of this region!" A grin. "I remember Warford, and teaching you how to knit!"

"I like to think I was a good student!" Kyminn laughed, then drew Tysen's attention back to the map. "So, do they always grow them as tall as you in that area? What's so special about this region, hm?"

A shrug. "Not terribly much. Small farms mostly. It's pretty spread out what with all the grazing areas. Lots of the families go in together and run one big flock." A grimace. "It's easier - fewer hands needed - but it can get messy when the partnerships shift. There are arrangements, deals and feuds that go back generations."

"Feuds? Don't the Heralds usually sort those out pretty quickly?" Eiven asked. By now, all four of them were crowded around the map.

"The big ones, yes. But there's other smaller ones that aren't really what you'd call 'open conflict'. It's more a case of "Hiram Blenke won't let his sheep run with Wallis Nedder's because Nedder is selling wool to Haverling. Haverling's grandfather claims Blenke's grandfather shorted him on a deal and now Haverling won't let Blenke breed from his rams." A sigh. "That sort of thing. It gets in the way of a lot of things."

Tysen traced a line of track on the map, one not far from three of the pins. "For example, my father always hauled his own wool down to this little hamlet here," a tap on the map. "There was a guild carter that came to our village, but Father wouldn't sell to him. The carter was a cousin by marriage to an independent and cheaper fellow that had this contract," the finger circled an area that encompassed the pins, "but Father said that fellow had been caught forging bale tags in order to downgrade the wool."

Tysen looked down at Kyminn. "Father would take the expense of two days hauling our wool rather than sell to someone related to Vannik Lassman."

"Isn't that a trifle...extreme?" Cydris shook her head. "It's not like the poor fellow can choose his relatives. I'm sure we all have relatives that we'd rather we didn't!"

There were wry nods all around. "Aye, that's true," Tysen admitted. "But I think that Father was proved right. The guild fella, he lost his membership for some reason or other. Some short of shady dealing, I think." He regarded Kyminn thoughtfully. "I don't know if it's relevant to your little 'vacation' here, but Lassman's route? It ran right through here." And a long finger drew a path that wended its way past the little thicket of pins.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A thoughtful silence fell over them following Tysen's comments. No matter how long they stared, the map refused to divulge any further secrets.

Eiven broke the spell with a forced cough. "You're not going to tell us what this is for, are you?" It was dry.

"A project of Tannel's," was Kyminn's offhanded response as he turned away. "Anybody need more cider?"

Murmured affirmatives told him the others had accepted his closure of the matter and Cydris topped up any mug that needed it.

"As I was saying," Tysen began, only to halt at Kyminn's upraised hand. "Now what?"

Kyminn wore an unfocused, distracted look as a furrow began to build in his forehead.

"Foresight?" Tysen glanced at Cydris for confirmation.

"I don't think so…" her own brow furrowed in unconscious mirror of Kyminn's. "Something else. One of the dogs maybe?"

"Renya?" Tysen straightened in his seat.

Kyminn closed his eyes in concentration as his Gifts took him elsewhere. A moment later, they snapped open again, dark with worry.

"There are two Companion mares foaling. One has her Herald with her and she's alright for now. The other is unpartnered and there are complications."

"What sort of complications?" Eiven was already on his feet and looking around for his coat.

"Hard to tell through Bull's eyes. Renya said the Herald passed on from _her_ Companion that the foal may be breech." Kyminn was lacing his boots as he spoke.

"I'll go find Delassia," Eivin offered.

Cydris shook her head. "She's not here. Kyminn says she is spending Midwinter at the Guard camp. Apparently one of their tinkerers thinks she's come up with a better way to get wounded Companions off the battlefield. Delassia's gone to consult."

"I'll grab the emergency kit love, and meet you at the Companion stables." Cydris's voice was muffled by the thick scarf she was wrapping around her face against the night's bitter cold.

"I'll take you," Tysen announced, turning his back to Kyminn and gesturing for the other Healer to climb aboard.

"What?" Kyminn blurted. "Don't be daft Tysen, you're not a packhorse!"

"And you're not a sprinter. Shut up and get over here."

"He's right," Eiven was blunt. "I'll break trail and carry the light. Come on!"

Kyminn grumbled at the indignity of being hauled through the night 'like a sack of flour', but eventually his practical side won out and he squeezed Tysen's shoulder in gratitude for the assistance.

Renya was at the door waiting for them and she wrestled it closed behind them to retain as much warmth as they could. She had already lit every available lantern and was warming water a sheltered brazier in the lee of the stables.

Heedless of the double dozen of Companions watching anxiously, Kyminn slid off Tysen's shoulders, his attention on his patient. Patients.

"Is that…?" Eiven was already reaching out to link with the others. The Companion mare, plainly in distress, was on her knees, sides heaving like bellows as she struggled.

"Not a breech, no. The foal's head is bent to the side, not lying along the forelegs like it should." Kyminn addressed the mare.

"I'm going to try to reposition your foal. It will be intrusive and feel odd, but nothing more."

For the next candlemark, the four Healers tried vainly to reposition the recalcitrant foal. Even with selective pauses to the labour and the mother's wholehearted cooperation, their smallest patient refused to shift.

"Kyminn!" He didn't need Cydris's warning. His own Gift and the warm wash of blood over his hand told him what needed to happen - now! Under his hands, he could feel the Companion's life trickling through his fingers as the ruptured placenta poured her lifeblood over him.

Months of working in tandem had Tysen dropping the scalpel into Kyminn's outstretched hand without the need for words. Eiven splashed the warm disinfecting wash over the mare's belly even as he used his own Gift to start closing off blood vessels. Cydris sat apart, her energies focussed on strengthening and stabilizing the labouring mare. Beneath their hands, life dwindled as they pushed back the darkness.

It was mere moments before Eiven was hauling a wriggling white body into his own lap as he cleared the foal - filly's - mouth of membrane and fluid so she could breathe.

"Is…?" Eiven withdrew from their link to direct his energies to the newest Companion.

"She's fine. Or she will be." With the newborn safe, Kyminn could be profligate in shutting down the blood vessels, redirecting, steadying. Under the web of their Gifts, balance returned swiftly, the Companion's labouring easing as her breathing returned to slow, steady draws.

With the four of them - three now - lending their energies to the mare, Kyminn indulged in an additional 'expense' of Healing, sealing and mending instead of stitching. The final cut though, through the tough white skin, that he stitched, their energies spent. "In case anyone needs proof," was his wry observation as he trimmed the last stray threads.

"She says," an unfamiliar voice interjected, "that if anyone asks for proof, she'll kick them from here to Hardorn."

That drew a tired chuckle from all of them. Behind them, a Herald leaned against the stall, her black hair a darker shadow around her tired face.

"We," the Herald indicated her Companion and herself, "were prepared to send for more help if it looked like you needed it, but clearly you had it under control."

The Herald was rumpled and her loose-fitting clothes were splashed with various fluids and other reminders of a recent birth. Judging from her happy exhaustion, her own night had been much less fraught. Her Companion watched alertly, her own newborn colt snuggled close.

"Thank you," Kyminn answered for the four of them. "Do you or your Companion need anything?"

A headshake. "No. She says she's fine, thank you. Besides, I'd be surprised if any of you had the energy for more than a kitten scratch right now!"

"You're probably right," Kyminn let Eiven help him up. "We'll stop in later this morning to check on everyone and we'll peek in then, just in case. In the meantime," he smiled as he watched the filly try out her legs, "We'll let this lady and her daughter rest."

"My Drielle," the woman's face was suffused with the profound love of a Herald for her Companion, "says that Lynniss says thank you very much." The Herald paused, listening. "From her and little Ahrodie both."

SCENE BREAK

"Well," Cydris yawned as they gratefully crawled into bed. "I must say that that was a more exciting Midwinter than I expected."

"Mmh." Kyminn was non-committal as he puffed out the lamp.

"Cydris?" his voice was quiet in the warm darkness.

"Mmh?" a hand crept out to rest on his arm.

"Stay?"

There was a pause. "Kyminn, it's cold out and I'm exhausted. I hope you don't think I'm going back to my own room tonight." She sounded irritated.

"No. Not that. Not tonight I mean. Stay. Always." His breathing stopped, suspended.

Weight shifted and he could tell she had sat up. "Kyminn," she said slowly, "are you asking me to marry you?"

It was his turn to pause. "Yes?" It was tentative.

A huff and half laugh in the darkness."Was that a 'yes' you're asking me? Because you don't sound sure!"

"It is!" he blurted. "Yes, I mean. Yes, I'm asking you. And yes, I'm sure!"

"Before I answer, I want you to answer a question first."

He propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly wary. "Alright."

"Please," and there was smothered laughter in her voice, "tell me that this wasn't your first choice for how you were planning to propose marriage?"

She could hear relief in the chagrin in his voice. "Well, no. It was supposed to be at the end of the evening, just after we put the last fire out for Midwinter. I had a lovely speech prepared about how you bring light and warmth to my life even in the darkest times." He added mournfully, "It was _supposed_ to be dramatic and romantic and shared with our friends."

"What, you don't think an emergency Companion birth constitutes a romantic proposal? Kyminn, my dear, I am absolutely sure of several things. Would you like to know what they are?"

"Yes?"

She pealed laughter. "First, that nothing that involves you is ever going to go as planned. It's going to be complicated, noisy and undoubtedly messy. Second, it will probably involve something with fur. Or feathers. Or something. Thirdly, yes, I am sure that I want to marry you. If nothing else, just to see what happens next."

She stopped and her voice was quiet in the darkness. "I happen to be very in love with you Kyminn Danner. Yes, I will marry you."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Years later, Kyminn would have cause to marvel at the simplicity which surrounded the wedding. Having no experience whatsoever to draw on aside from the village weddings of his youth, he had no inkling of the amount of pomp and circumstance Cydris chose to omit. Fortunately for him, his vague notion of "dress in something nice, find a priest and then celebrate" closely matched his bride-to-be's thoughts on the matter.

"So," Cydris turned over a scrap of rough paper and tapped on it with her writing stick. "Do you care about wedding colours?"

Kyminn paused, soup dripping unheeded from his spoon. "Wedding colours? What are those?"

The side of her mouth quirked up. "Some people have very definite ideas about the colours and whatnot surrounding their wedding. Avoid unlucky colours, make sure the flowers match the bride's dress...that sort of thing. Any unlucky colours we should avoid?"

"Ummm…" he racked his brain, trying to think. "I don't think so. From what I can remember, people usually wore their best outfit, whatever it was. Maybe the girl's mother and sisters put fancy embroidery on a shawl or blouse, but that's about it." He shrugged. "We didn't get much in the way of lace and fripperies brought in or have much time to wear things like that."

"No lace then," she pretended to write that down, laughing at his baffled expression. "Relax my dear. To be honest, unless you have strong feelings one way or another, I'd like to keep this as simple as possible."

"Simple. Simple is good. Simple is just fine." He swallowed the now-cold spoonful of soup and made a face at the texture. "Unless…" he was suddenly wary, "unless you wanted something a bit...er...more?"

A firm headshake. "No. Kym...much as I think we could all do with something to celebrate right now, this doesn't feel like the time for it. Honestly, I'm not sure it's something I'd want even if things were going perfectly. I think the wedding will be a very nice occasion and, hopefully, a memory we'll treasure in years to come, but in the end, it's one day. I find I would rather put more energy into the marriage than the wedding, if that makes sense."

"That's...relieving, since we're being honest about this. I don't care about flash and festival. I just want to be married to you, with people we care about being happy with us. Whatever you want is just fine with me."

"Good. Now that that's settled, there are a least a _few_ things that we have to do. For starters, when and where?"

Over the remainder of their lunch, they quickly hammered out the few details. _Where_ would be the small chapel near the Healer's Collegium. Dedicated to no deity in particular, it instead held shrines to the various gods and goddesses who included a Healing aspect. No regular services were held there, but Healers, patients and families sought solace there at need.

 _When_ would be the second Rest day of the second month, a date approximately six sennights away. When Kyminn protested the wait, Cydris held firm. Simple or not, her wedding _would_ include a wedding dress and that would require time. Six sennights it was.

Oddly enough, their sole point of contention settled on what, exactly, to wear. More specifically, the colour.

"I thought you said you didn't care, that there was no unlucky colour or anything like that." Kyminn protested.

"I said there was no unlucky colour. I didn't say I didn't care." Kyminn recognized the tone of Cydris digging in her heels.

"But...we're Healers. Getting married here, at Healers. Doesn't it make sense to wear formal Greens?" It seemed the ultimate in simple practicality, at least to Kyminn.

"Kyminn, what did you put on when you got up this morning? And yesterday morning, and the morning before that?" Cydris being reasonable was almost worse than Cydris being stubborn.

"Greens, granted. But doesn't that just prove my point? That's what we wear, who we are."

"That's _what_ we are, granted. And I'll even go so far as to agree that much of the time that's _who_ we are as well. But I'm not marrying Kyminn-the-Healer. I'm marrying Kyminn Danner, a man of many parts. When we go out for an evening with our friends, we don't go out in our Greens. We go out as our whole selves. That's who I want to marry, the whole Kyminn, not just the Healer."

With a small, still baffled shrug, he acquiesced. "I guess I see, and even if I don't, it matters to you and that's what really matters to me. So. No green. What about white? In some places, the bride always wears white. For purity, or a fresh start or something. I'm not sure, really, but I know it's a tradition somewhere."

"No, not white. I'm afraid I'd end up looking like I was trying to be a Herald. Besides," her grin was wicked, "I don't think either of us could pass the purity requirement."

When their laughter trailed away, she added, "How about this. We're surrounded by the same uniforms every day: green, white, red, blue along with the student versions of those. How about we agree that we can wear whatever we want as long as it isn't the colour of some uniform or another?"

"Agreed." It was prompt. "I think we can both manage something suitable within those guidelines." Relieved to have the matter settled, he quickly moved on before she could change her mind. "What else do we need to decide?"

"Just someone to officiate, I think." She grew thoughtful, "Do you suppose...can Heralds perform weddings?"

"Huh. I suppose so. They can act as judges, and magistrates can officiate weddings. Were you thinking Randen?"

"I was, to be honest. What do you think?"

He chewed his lip in thought. "I like the idea, I really do and I'm sure he'd say yes. My worry though is that well, he _is_ a Herald, and the King rather needs every Herald he's got. I'm not sure how I'd feel about asking to have Randen's duties be organized around our wedding. I think...I think we're better off just inviting him and if he can make it, wonderful, otherwise, well, duty calls and all that."

A sigh. "Agreed."

In the end, their officiant was a friend of Cydris's, a priest from the Healing temple she had been assigned to the year before. He was delighted to be asked, and after interviews with each of them established their intentions were sincere and founded in genuine attachment, more than willing to perform the ceremony.

 _SCENE BREAK_

If you had asked him afterwards, Kyminn couldn't have told you what part of his wedding was most memorable, although some images stood out more than others.

Derris, in formal halter, squeezing into the back of the tiny chapel since, in Randen's words "It's too cold for him to stand outside and we didn't think you wanted to move the wedding to the Companion's stable. He says he's representing all the Companions you two have helped over the years." (Kyminn wondered how he was supposed to recite vows around the lump that appeared in his throat following that statement.)

Having a Companion in a chapel large enough to hold only twenty or so people meant the neat rows of guests became a standing mob once the benches were pushed outside to accommodate. Nobody seemed to mind though, and the impromptu arrangement added its own cheerful chaos to the day.

The crowding did, however, mean there was no particular aisle for Cydris to move to the front of the chapel. Instead, the crowd of friends simply parted around her, fore and aft as she made her way to where Kyminn waited. It slowed her process greatly since everyone seemed to want to stop her and offer a hug or blessing as she passed. Somehow, it was perfect.

Finally, cheeks red, eyes bright with happy tears and more than a trifle rumpled, she emerged from the crowd, Eiven at her elbow.

"She's not mine to give, nor yours to take as your own. Will you join with her, and walk together?" Eiven held out a hand to Kyminn.

"I will." Kyminn stepped forward, to stand - at last! - beside his bride as Eiven gave way before him. The small group arranged themselves in the small space left before the altar.

Tysen and Eiven anchored one end, their dark blue pants and white shirts marking them out in the vibrantly coloured crowd. Kyminn wore much the same as his friends, his dark jacket touched with silver along the cuffs and collar. His Healer's sigil against the high-collared shirt lent a small splash of brightness.

Cydris, as a bride should, outshone them all (with the possible exception of Derris, but the Companion was more than willing to give her a few moments in the spotlight). Her "not uniform coloured" dress was a warm yellow that faded from a light, buttery shade at her shoulders through to a near gold at the hem. Kyminn couldn't have told you what the effect was called, but he admitted it was stunning.

Renya, in a simpler pale yellow, tried to look as solemn as the occasion warranted, but the effect was spoiled by her beaming smile as she stood beside Cydris. Randen, his presence at the wedding confirmed only a few days before, squeezed in beside Renya, closing the far end of the group.

The ceremony itself was a simple one, Valdemaran law stipulating that marriage was enacted between the two parties and not something decreed from outside the union. A statement of intent, made in the presence of a suitable witness, was all that was required.

As he kissed his wife (!) afterwards, Kyminn eyed the crowd and whispered "I suppose it's too late to change our minds now?"

He could feel the laughter in her chest as she answered him, "It depends. Which witnesses would you rather try silencing first? The Healers, the Heralds or the Bards?"

"I guess we're stuck with each other then," he straightened up and slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her with him into the fray.

In all of their planning, the thing which had surprised them the most was how many people came forward to wish them well. Fellow Healers yes, but also Guards, Trainees of all sorts including the group of youngsters Kyminn stood as "big brother" to, a Bard or two from Cydris's year, former patients and a host of others. As Derris stood in for the Companions, so did Randen stand in for the various Heralds whose paths Kyminn had crossed. The notes, gifts and whatnot that continued to trickle in had been both gratifying and humbling.

Their best friends had, with the cooperation of Dean Tannel and the senior Healers, arranged for them to spend a quiet sennight together at one of Haven's better inns. The gift from Randen moved them both greatly, for the Herald had commissioned an artist to do ink and watercolour sketches of the newlyweds, one copy to go to each of their families. How the Herald knew that they had both expressed a wish that it were possible for their families to be there for the wedding, they never found out, although Kyminn's money was on a certain Empathic Trainee Healer.

Even Delassia attended, rather to Kyminn's surprise. Her gift of a laptop writing desk "So you can finish your work on the second edition of the book on Healing of Companions" was equal parts thoughtful and Delassia. Kyminn hadn't known that he was writing a book.

As they - finally - curled up together in the inn's preposterously large feather bed, Cydris murmured drowsily. "It was a wonderful day, wasn't it?"

"It was. It was also exhausting. Let's not do that again, alright?"

Her only response was a snore.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

With regrettable haste, the bubble of happiness from the wedding faded into memory, overcome by the growing grim haste of the spring campaign. Winter tantrumed at the approach of spring and training took on a frenetic pace. Icy rain and mire turned the mounted warfare training into a frigid misery. Kyminn and Cydris spent their days in the training yards, mending wrenched muscles and twisted joints. There was no time now for 'rest and recover'. The Healers used their Gifts extravagantly, whatever was required to get the injured back on the field. Dawn to dusk and beyond, the days blurred into a fog of sticky mud, numb limbs, and exhaustion.

Slowly, then in an ever-increasing tide, orders and instructions began to flow throughout the Healer's Hall.

Tysen and Eiven left first, sent forward with the army's van. Kyminn didn't envy them. They left when spring was barely a notion in the air, their departure marked by late-season snowstorm. The rest of their trip augured to be as bad or worse.

To Kyminn's unhappy surprise, the dogs left shortly afterwards, assigned to a handler who would be responsible for transporting them to the base camp. It was, Kyminn was assured, a temporary measure. Having many years' experience with 'temporary measures', Kyminn harboured serious doubts on that score. He found their absence disconcerting and protested vigorously to Cydris, but only in private. The dogs were, he had to remind himself, the Crown's property, not his. Somehow, the rationalization didn't help the feeling of loss.

Bit by bit, the Hall emptied. Patients were transferred, their Healers sent to the front. Anyone close to being ready for his or her Greens had been promoted long since. The remaining senior Trainees found themselves tutoring the younger as instructors were shifted to cover the gaps. Cydris returned to the classroom and Kyminn added a class or two to his own schedule. As each day ended, they went to bed wondering when it was going to be their turn.

"Kyminn, you need to eat." Cydris watched him push the peas around on his plate for the tenth time.

"I'm not hungry." And it was true, he found himself with no appetite.

"You said that at lunch. And breakfast." It was sharp.

"I know." He attempted a reassuring smile. "Really, I'm not hungry."

"That's because you're too busy twisting yourself into knots. And before you say another word, would you like me to tell you the state of your stomach and blood pressure right now?"

His grimace was sour. "No. I know what you'd say." The peas made another lap around the rim of his plate. "I..feel like I've failed somehow, only I don't know how."

"I know love," her voice softened. "It's been over three weeks since the last unit left for the front and neither of us was with them. You've served since the beginning and your time with the Guard goes back even farther. I don't know why you haven't been called up yet."

"I can't help it. It just...eats at me. Why did they leave me behind? Is it because they see me as a cripple? Or do they doubt my skills? I keep trying to convince myself that it's not vanity to think that my skills are best suited for out there, not back here. That's not proudful, is it?" He began a methodical campaign to puncture each pea.

"No, that's a pretty fair assessment." She sighed. "There could be a hundred reasons why you're still here. Maybe it _is_ concern about your stamina. If so, there's nothing we can do about that. Maybe they do want you here to teach. It's not your primary strength, no, but you being here frees up someone with a different set of Gifts to go somewhere else. You need to stop looking at it as though you were overlooked. You need to assume that Tannel knows exactly what he's doing and that he has you exactly where he _needs you_."

"In other words, shut up and do as I'm told." The smile was rueful.

"I would have used gentler words, but then, I'm your wife and supposed to be loverly and ladylike. Which is good for you because otherwise I'd tell you to get your head out of your hind end and stop feeling like Tannel should let you do whatever you please. If you want to tell him how to run the Circle, be my guest. Just let me know so I can sell tickets to the show." She served him a fresh spoonful of vegetables and matched him, glare for glare.

His response was probably unprintable, but he ate.

He hadn't been lying about his lack of appetite, however. In addition to worrying about the uncertainty of his status, his Foresight had been pummeling him with images of the coming battles. Often the images were chaotic – jumbled scenes of horses with grievous wounds. The ones less frequent, but horrific in their clarity, were those involving Companions.

 _A Companion, rearing as a blade flashes towards his neck_

 _An axe, upraised, glinting as it arcs towards a white hide_

 _Companion's Field, empty as the Death Bell tolls_

He dutifully recorded each one, sending it onward to the Heraldic Circle, hoping that these futures would prove to be mutable.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Fortunately, for the sake of Cydris's patience, their own orders arrived two days later. The note was baffling in its brevity.

 _"_ _Healers Kyminn Danner and Cydris Danner are assigned to the Healer's Corps, Army of Valdemar. This assignment is effective immediately. Further details will follow at the briefing. Report to the Sunset Briefing room at the fifth bell on Third Day._

That was it.

"Cydris? Do you have any idea what this is about?"

She shook her head. "Not any more than you do. I find it odd that they're leaving it so late though. Trying to catch up with the others is going to be challenge."

He read the note again for the fourth time. "I don't know where the Sunset room is either. I have to assume it's in the palace – it's certainly not here at Healers. Thank the little gods for pages!"

"Which makes things even odder, to my way of thinking." She shrugged. "I'm glad we have an answer _and_ a couple of days to get things in order. I'll go get our field packs out of storage."

 _SCENE BREAK_

The 'Sunset Briefing Room' turned out to be a smallish room in the Royal wing of the palace. That fact alone was enough to cause more than a few raised eyebrows between the two of them.

"Please wait here, Healers." The page ushered them into the room. Light from the westward facing windows picked out tones of red and gold from the wallpaper. It was clear how the room had gotten its name.

The Healers declined the page's offer to bring wine and seated themselves, albeit nervously, at the small table.

The time candle had added another quarter-mark before the door opened again. "…tell him to wait. I'll be there shortly." Herald Talamir was still speaking as he swung into the room. Dean Tannel and two unfamiliar Heralds followed close behind.

Kyminn and Cydris surged to their feet and offered the head of the Healer's Circle and the King's Own respectful bows. Talamir's nod of acknowledgement was hasty, but not dismissive.

"Sit, please. I apologize that this is going to be brief. The only thing it seems we aren't short of these days is Tedrels." He waved them back to their seats.

The Healers did, waiting until the others were seated before re-settling themselves.

Talamir wasted no time. "Healer Kyminn. It's been some time since we last worked together, but Tannel tells me you are still working on various special projects for your Circle. Is that correct?"

Kyminn nodded. "Yes sir, I am."

"And you, Healer Cydris. I understand you have joined this discreet project as well?"

"I have, Herald Talamir. Kyminn hasn't shared all of his…past projects…but yes, I am currently working on a matter with Kyminn and Dean Tannel."

Talamir nodded and glanced over at Tannel. Tannel merely quirked an eyebrow and made a 'go on' gesture to Talamir.

"Healer Kyminn, I have to ask, given your injury. How well are you currently able to ride?"

A blink. That wasn't a question Kyminn had expected. "The injury mostly affects my knee, sir. It doesn't flex as well as it should and isn't as strong as I'd like. Having said that, I can still ride quite well. A little stiff after a full day in the saddle and I'm not a fan of long trots, but it doesn't slow me down."

"That is very good news." Talamir nodded, his expression distant while he, presumably, conferred with someone.

"As you know, we have been moving troops and supplies to the front for some time now. We expect them to all be in place…well, let's just say it won't be all that long. The last group to leave will be the King and the Heir." Talamir paused, watching them.

Kyminn nodded slowly. "If the King were to travel with the army…it would be very easy for an enemy to slip in. A servant, a cook, an archer…but if he travels in a small, trusted group, he's much more flexible and discreet."

"Indeed. The King and Heir already have security teams in place and we're not going to change that. You two, along with Heralds Geryven and Brynn," the two Heralds nodded as they were named, "will provide an additional layer of protection."

Tannel spoke up for the first time. "Kyminn, Herald Geryven is a Farseer. She will scan the area for any ambushes or anything that seems out of place. You will do the same, using your Gifts to see if any of the local birds or wildlife has been tampered with or if there are mounts where there shouldn't be any.

You will also be on hand in the event of an attack or accident which injures a Companion."

"Cydris, while there is a Healer travelling with the King, we feel it prudent to have an additional Healer in the area. Just in case."

Cydris nodded in sober understanding.

"In addition," Tannel continued, "you will be responsible for testing the wells and watercourses that the King's party will be using. Herald Brynn possesses the Fetching Gift as well as fairly decent mindspeech. She will notify the King's party if your group finds trouble."

"I gather, sirs, that we will not be travelling with the King's group then?"

It was Talamir's turn to answer. "No. You will travel a candlemark or two ahead of them. This should provide an ample margin of clear area before it would be possible for an enemy to move in behind you. However, the King's party will have their own scouts and Farseers doing exactly the same thing."

Talamir regarded them levelly. "This is going to arduous. You will be leaving in the dark every day and not stopping until well past nightfall. The others will get the waystations, you'll be sleeping rough every night."

Kyminn glanced at Cydris, and answered for them. "Of course we'll do it." He paused, then indicated the waiting Heralds. "I assume that we'll be riding pillion then if the King is travelling at a Companion's pace and we're to keep ahead of them."

"No, actually. We're not going to ask the Companion's to carry double for the time and pace that's going to be required. Unpartnered Companions have agreed to carry you two as well as those members of the Kings guard who are not Heralds."

Kyminn couldn't hide the surprise and gratitude in his expression. He addressed the waiting Heralds directly. "Please thank them for us. We know it's a tremendous imposition and privilege."

Herald Brynn nodded gravely. "Thank you. I have passed on your message."

Talamir pushed back his chair. "If you have no more questions of me, I have another meeting."

"No sir," Kyminn shook his head. "As long as Dean Tannel can tell us when we're leaving and any other particulars."

"Very well then." Talamir rose. "In case anyone forgets to mention it, thank you. This is one of those tasks that probably only the six of us will ever know took place, yet is vitally necessary."

 _SCENE BREAK_

A little over a day later, at a time of day which was still firmly classifiable as "night", the two of them arrived, shivering, at the Companion's stables.

A surprising number of Companions had started to drift in and the grooms were kept busy pulling out tack and gear.

There were only two Heralds there yet, Brynn and Geryven. With them were two additional Companions. Both of these were tacked up, but lacking bridles. Clearly, although the unpartnered Companions were willing to assist, they drew the lines at having strangers sawing at reins in attempt to control them.

Unrehearsed, Kyminn and Cydris offered profound bows to the Companions.

"Thank you. We'll do our best to be gracious guests," Cydris added.

The larger of the two Companions snorted but looked pleased.

Herald Geryven spoke up. "These are Companions Losanir and Lacaral. They have agreed to carry you for this journey."

Kyminn nodded gravely, eyeing the two Companions. Losanir was…large. Not quite so large, perhaps as the redoubtable Kantor, but still more than substantial. "Companion Losanir, if you have no objection, would you mind if I asked Lacaral to bear me while you carry my wife? Frankly, you're rather tall and I'm worried that I'd end up bashing you about if I try get into your saddle with my weak leg."

Losanir nodded and stepped back, angling so that Cydris could set her foot into the stirrup. Although she was shorter than Kyminn, she had more than enough strength and spring to hop up with a modicum of grace.

Lacaral, although the shorter of the two, was still a challenge for Kyminn and he did his best to avoid being too ungainly.

"We're going to be leaving at this time most days, so I'll show you now how to strap yourselves in so you can doze in the saddle. Trust me, you're going to need it." Brynn demonstrated the belt and strap configuration and how to secure themselves to their seats. She had barely finished when the Companions started moving off.

The moment the quartet was out of the city, the Companions broke into a ground-eating gait that took Kyminn's breath away. In the predawn darkness, he couldn't make out a single detail of the landscape around them and he strongly suspected that he wouldn't be able to see anything beyond a blur anyway. He tucked his hands inside his cloak, hunkered down against the wind of their passage and concentrated on balancing his weight to Lacaral's movement.

 **(My thanks to Tantris for his suggestion and generous offer of Losanir and Lacaral!)**


	16. Chapter 16

_(A/N – This is the battle scene. Battles aren't pretty.)_

Chapter 16

It was just drawing dark again when the Companions at last slowed, pushing their way through the trees to a small stream. As she had at wells and watercourses throughout the day, Cydris approached first. Once she nodded her approval, the Companions drank while the humans stripped off tack.

Kyminn glanced around at the very generic woodland. "Where are we?" He dug the grooming tools out of Lacaral's pack.

"We're about four days ride from Haven at a horse's normal pace. About double what a Companion usually manages."

Kyminn paused in his brushing. "That's…astonishing. Thank you again Lacaral for making this possible."

Lacaral simply nodded and resumed tearing up grass.

That first night established the routine for the remainder of their journey. First always were the Companions and Kyminn saw the Heralds exchanging nods of approval that the Healers hadn't had to be told to see to their mounts first.

The four of them took it in turn to prepare dinner while the other three set up an abbreviated camp. Only when rain threatened did they bother with canvas, and that only to offer shelter to the exhausted Companions. Herald and Healer alike simply put their bedrolls within a folded over canvas and dropped into weary slumber.

Herald Brynn and Cydris split the night watches as they were most able to doze during the day. Kyminn and Geryven had to remain alert, probing the (hopefully!) empty leagues of countryside around them.

Up before dawn, gobble down something or other and clamber back into the saddle. Talamir had been brutally correct to call it arduous. The Heralds were friendly enough, but the pace left little time or energy for conversation.

As the Companions bore them inexorably towards the unknowable future, Kyminn began to see changes in the countryside. It wasn't simply a change in the geography and vegetation – this was his fourth journey into the south and the land had become familiar to him. No, it was the silence. No shepherds walked the hills and the small farmsteads they passed were dark and shuttered. Even the birds and wildlife seemed to have fled, as though the very land itself was holding its breath.

They heard the army before they saw it, a vast tent city sprung out of the hillside like a strange harvest. Fields no longer held crops – now they held vast herds of horses and the like. Not the cavalry animals, these were the dray beasts, the horses, mules and oxen required to move the vast store of food and supplies needed to sustain the army. Kyminn firmly clamped down on his shields lest the babble of so many creatures overwhelm him. As they galloped down one slope and up another, deeper and deeper into the vast sea of canvas, the Companions moderated their pace a bit, enough for Geryven to move up beside Kyminn and for conversation to be possible.

"We've been instructed to report to the command tent. You and Cydris are to go to Healers. Losanir and Lacral will take you there and then they have to be somewhere else."

Kyminn nodded. "Thank you Herald Geryven. Lacaral, did you and Losanir want us to rub you down before you leave?"

Geryven shook her head in time with Lacaral's headshake. "He says no, but thank you. There are grooms at the Companion lines that can do that. He'd rather not have to be tacked up again just to travel the short distance."

With that, the Heralds peeled away and Losanir and Lacral increased their pace again. Apparently, they knew exactly where they were going for they wended their way through the camp directly to the Healer's section.

The Companions waited just long enough for Kyminn and Cydris to remove their personal gear and offer their sincere thanks before pivoting and trotting off again.

Cydris watched them go, bemused. "Not much for long goodbyes, are they?"

Kyminn's smile was wry. "Companions are rather a law unto themselves. I've come to wonder if that part of them that lets them see whatever it is that makes someone a Herald isn't sort of fragile, like it's almost uncomfortable for them to be with someone who is not their Chosen."

Cydris looked thoughtful but said nothing, simply holding the tent open for him to enter.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Experience had, unfortunately, made them all too familiar with the process of preparing for battle. It was regrettable, but unsurprising to discover that they had been assigned different teams. There was simply too much to do, too many other priorities for something like a relationship to be a consideration.

There was little real Healing to do yet – mostly training injuries, cooking accidents and the like. Kyminn spent most of his time in the still room, mixing the gallons of salves and sachets they were sure to require. He was in the midst of straining an antiseptic tincture when Tysen stuck his head through the door.

"Kyminn? There's a Herald here. He says there's a call for anyone with Animal Mindspeech or similar Gifts."

Kyminn wiped his hands and handed the pot to Tysen as he hurried outside. "Tell Cydris where I've gone, would you?"

Kyminn didn't recognize the Herald. "I've got Animal Mindspeech, Animal Empathy and a couple of other Gifts. Will that help?"

"I certainly hope so." The Herald reached an arm down for Kyminn to swing up behind him. "There was only one other Healer who said he had that Gift." The Herald pointed to figure in Green, jogging determinedly through the tents. "I've let the others know. Someone's on their way to pick him up. Hold on tight now."

The Companion gave Kyminn just long enough to clamp tight with arms and thighs before launching herself. Even at a Companion's pace, Kyminn was startled to realize how close they were to the command tent. With a murmur of thanks, he slid down, joining the group of Heralds milling around. As soon as the other Healer arrived, the group was ushered into one of the larger tents. Judging from the array of maps and detritus, some of the planning staff had been evicted to make room for them.

"Good afternoon," Kyminn couldn't see the speaker, but her voice was clear enough in the sudden silence. "For those of you that don't know me, I'm Herald Joyeaus, the Lord Marshall's Herald. And to make a long story short, you're here because we think you can help. In times past, we have been able to locate the Tedrels quite accurately through the use of Farsight and other non-technical means." She paused while the Heralds chuckled at her euphemism for "spies".

"Recently however, we stopped being able to See the enemy. We suspect that the Tedrels are somehow shielding their activities from our Farseers." She paused as a Herald raised his hand diffidently.

"Excuse me, Joyeaus, but what do you mean by 'shielding'? The Karsites don't have Heralds."

"No, they most certainly don't," the diminutive Herald agreed. "However, there's nothing to say that they don't have Gifted of their own."

Joyeus had to pause again as the agitated murmur her words created rumbled through the crowd.

"Don't be daft!" She spoke sharply. "It's rather stupid and vain of us to assume that only Valdemar has Gifts now doesn't it? In fact, someone," she didn't mention that had been Alberich, "pointed out that much of what the Sunpriests do falls under the heading of Gifts. Our own Chronicler, Herald Myste, confirms that there is every indication that there are Gifted in Karse."

The rumble this time was more thoughtful.

"Exactly. We believe that someone – either the Sunpriests or someone within the Tedrel army – is blocking our ability to Farsee. We believe they may be covering up the fact that their army is on the move, trying to sneak over the border unopposed." She spoke over the low growl from the crowd. "It's our hope that they are restricting the blocking to Farsight _only_. We want you Animal Mindspeakers to see if you can't use the local wildlife, or maybe even the Tedrels' beasts themselves, to find them for us."

It didn't take long for the handful of Heralds and Healers to locate the Tedrels. As Joyeaus had guessed, the Tedrels were moving.

"Well done," Joyeaus was grimly satisfied. "Now that we've found them, we're going to make damn sure we don't let them slip away again. We'll set a roster – and that includes you Healers, by the way – to make sure we keep an eye on them this time."

As Kyminn added his name to the list, he reflected on how it was that for all he was a Healer, it seemed to be one of the things he spent the least amount of time doing.

For the next several days, he reported to the same tent in the midafternoon. Tucked into a corner, he and a pair of Heralds would spend the next 6 or seven candlemarks in a trance, seeking out the minds and eyes of the creatures across the border. Sometime around midnight, he'd limp his way back to his own tent. He'd rise a candlemark or so after the regular breakfast and make his way to the Healer's tent. There he'd scrounge something off the night hearth and track down Cydris if he could. Most days, there was only time for a quick greeting before their duties called them away again.

After about a week, Kyminn reported as usual only to be told politely, "Thank you for your help, but we won't be needing you today. We'll let you know."

It should have been good news, to have candlemarks free. Instead, his heart was leaden in his chest as he slowly hiked back down the hill to the Healer's section. That he was no longer needed could only mean that the Tedrels had stopped moving, had stopped blocking the Farseers. Whatever it was the Tedrels had planned, they were ready.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Kyminn was just as glad he wasn't with the army when the troops moved out in the crepuscular dawn. He'd seen the distant glow of the Tedrel fires the night before and he was cold at the enormity of the force arrayed against them.

He didn't doubt the heart or valour of the Valdemar troops. He'd seen it grow, seen it drive it's roots deep in the rocky soil beneath his feet. He'd felt the soul of the army take the King and his Heir into their hearts, turning towards Selenay as a sunflower turns to follow the sun. No, he didn't doubt the men and women that surrounded them, but he, like others that could See the host arrayed against them, knew the truth about what was coming and he was terrified

Kyminn, along with the other Healers and stretcher bearers, stood well back, a small rise between them and the army. Kyminn knew the exact moment that the Lord Marshall chose the final battleground, for Kyminn's Foresight, silent the past few days when the Tedrels had circumvented the Gifts, returned full force once the war was set in motion.

Grimacing at the images that flooded in, Kyminn grimly built up his shields, then built them up again. He was grateful when Tysen and Cydris added their own shields to his, finally silencing the din.

They didn't see the first clash, but they heard it. It was an animal roar, a thunder torn from a hundred thousand throats that rolled across the hills and washed over them. Then there was no time to listen, to think, to fear.

Meet the stretcher, assess the wounded. Do what is urgent, then send her back to the tent. Shake the blood from your hands and use the rag hanging on your belt. Move to the next one and do it again.

The messenger is here – time for your team to withdraw. Gather them up and start back to Healers with them. Stop! The tourniquet has slipped. Tighten it before he bleeds out. You'll have to hold it in place while you walk. Watch out for the rocks! Damn, falling down hurt but you didn't let go of the tourniquet.

Stop. Put the stretcher down. You – hold this! I have to check that patient there. Hey! Stop! Put the stretcher down. It's too late, she's gone. I know she was breathing just a few moments ago, but see the hole in her head? She's gone. Leave her. Go back and find someone you can save.

Tourniquet again, but the soldier is so very pale. Hurry up so we can stop this bleeding properly! We're nearly there. Hey, someone help me over here!

Damn. Never mind. We lost this one too. Who's next?

As the sun climbed into the sky, their world narrowed to the grim routine of torn and mangled flesh, of bodies gone cold and still beneath their hands.

The sun cracked the zenith and still they worked as the tide of wounded continued unabated. He had just straightened up and called for the next patient when Foresight struck him like a hammer blow, the force of it shattering his shields and knocking him to his knees. His shriek of horror was lost amongst the cries of the wounded as he _Saw_ what was to come.

 _Taver, throwing up his head to escape the blow aimed at his chest, the flashing cruel blade that opened his neck and nearly decapitated him._

 _An axe, flashing down towards a white hide while a Companion shrieks in agony._

 _Lorenil, fighting to save his Chosen, fighting to save the King, while dozens of blades flash and pierce. The tearing agony as Lorenil dies and the Death Bell reverberates through Kyminn's soul._

"The King!" his voice was hoarse and raw, choked with tears and horror. "The King! The King!"

His words have gotten the attention of the others now and in the distance, a roar from the battlefield tells them something has happened.

"What is it?" He doesn't recognize the voice as hands try to lift his head, to turn his babbles into sense again.

"The King! Lorenil, Taver. The King! They're gone!" He repeats it like a mantra, locked in the horror of what he has _Seen._

"It's alright. We have you now." The unfamiliar voice is thick with tears as gentle hands on his head bring peace, bring oblivion.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 _A/N – the dialogue included here from "Exile's Honor" belongs solely to Mercedes Lackey. It is quoted here to retain the accuracy of this parallel story._

The angle of shadows on canvas told him it was midafternoon. He sorted through his muzzy memories, trying to remember lying down on a cot. Memory surfaced and his hands spasmed on the blankets. _Sendar. Lorenil. Taver._

He was the most fragile of crystal, afraid he would shatter at the lightest puff of air as he let the memory wash across his senses.

Sorrow. Profound sorrow. Pain and loss. Grief.

But that was all. This time, there was no precipice, no tumble into a chasm of soul-wrenching loss. No _sundering_. Wherever Lorenil and Taver had gone, this time, Kyminn hadn't followed.

A shudder of indrawn breath and his clenched hands eased. He couldn't have said whether the wetness on his cheeks was relief or sadness. Rubbing his hands across his face, he sat up and levered himself to his feet.

In the distance, he could hear the savage roar of battle, but long experience with that sound told him that something was different, something had changed. Even when the Tedrels had been at their most wild, the battle had never sounded like this. _This_ was distilled rage, a flood tide of berserk fury and something in Kyminn knew, without being told, that this was the unfettered soul of Valdemar, crashing and grinding against their foes.

Only a moment of stillness as he took in the oddly charged sound, for the clamour outside his walls bespoke a steady flow of wounded yet. With a final scrub to clear the dampness from his cheeks, he slipped into the chaotic dance, one more green-clad form amongst many.

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Kyminn?" Cydris's voice was rough with exhaustion as she rested a hand on his chest, eyes and Gift searching to make sure he was whole.

Gently, he wrapped his hand around hers. "I'm alright, love. I promise. It's just…the Foresight was…terrible." A squeeze. "But nothing more."

A slow nod. "I believe you." A brief hesitation. "One of the orderlies said he came to check on you and there was a Companion standing beside your bed, staring at you." A wan smile. "The orderly thought maybe you were being Chosen, but she said the Companion suddenly just…turned and left, just like that, and you stayed sleeping."

Kyminn's tone was wry. "We may never know what was happening. Perhaps they were just checking on me. They do things for their own reasons. His face fell as he remembered. "What I am sure is that no harm was intended, and after what happened today, I won't begrudge them any eccentricities they feel they need right now."

Kyminn glanced at the few wounded still making their way to the Healer's tents in the red-gold of sunset. "You've heard? The heir…the Queen lives?"

"I've heard." Cydris leaned her head on his chest and let him fold his arms around her. "That poor child."

He gave her a gentle shake. "That 'poor child' is our Queen, however broken her heart might be at present. We will serve her – and Valdemar – as we did her father. We owe them both that." A wave took in the tents of dead and wounded. "We owe them _all_ that."

"I know love. And we will. But I don't envy her."

 _SCENE BREAK_

The wounded continued to trickle in, but at a slow enough rate that they were able to grab snatches of rest here and there. It was with an odd sense of deja-vu that Kyminn found himself bandaging the stump of Jadus's leg and helping the Herald choke down the pain-killing draught.

For three years now Kyminn had Foreseen the axe which had cost Jadus his leg and it grieved the Healer that he had been unable to change the outcome. First Randen, now Jadus. His life had circled back around to the start.

Cydris had stopped by on her own rounds a short time before. She was helping prepare some of the more lightly wounded for evacuation north. The more seriously injured were not yet able to travel and sending the minor injuries onward would ease the strain on the camp's resources.

"Healers! Front and center!" the call was taken up by a dozen voices throughout the tent lines. Kyminn joined the exodus, part of the milling mob in the wagon-yard.

"Hey there! Hush everyone!" The Chief Healer, a man Kyminn recognized only vaguely, climbed up on a wagon seat to address the mob.

The crowd stilled, suddenly tense, the pall of gloom shifting to one of worry.

Which made the Chief Healer's sudden smile all the more surprising.

"As you know, our enemy was more than an army. They were a nation that wanted to take our homeland for their own. Well, we stopped them from doing that," he paused to let the rumble of angry satisfaction roll through the crowd, "but there's more to it than that. The Tedrels didn't have _families_ , but that doesn't mean they didn't have an eye to their nation's future.

"What they did have is children. Children stolen from Rethwellen and Ruthven, from Karse and Valdemar. Orphans and offspring of camp followers alike. The warriors are dead and gone, but these children are not. The Heralds tell us there may be as many as a thousand of them."

The Chief Healer paused, his gaze scanning the crowd. "These are not 'Tedrels in the making'. These are children without homes, without families. Children who would have been used for breeding – yes, breeding, not marriage – or forced into the Tedrel cult. The Karsites won't take them in – the children's fate at the hands of the Karsites would be at least as bad as at that of the Tedrels.

"The Heralds tell us the camp is less than a half day's journey from here, just across the border. The Karsite army is busy chasing what's left of the Tedrels and the camp is abandoned." His tone was fierce. "So we are going to go in there and rescue those children. We are going to bring life from death. Who's willing to volunteer?"

Almost every single green clad arm shot up.

Within a very short time, the Healers had sorted themselves out into who would go, who would stay.

As he helped Cydris gather her things, Kyminn said, for the fourth time, "You'll be careful, right?"

She paused. "I already said I would. Is your Foresight telling you something?"

Kyminn considered, probing at his Gifts. Finally, he shook his head. "No, but that doesn't mean anything. You know how Foresight is." A worried smile. "I just worry. I wish I was going with you."

"I know you do. And I know why you didn't volunteer. We both know that if this…goes bad…you'd have a hard time keeping up or defending yourself with your leg."

Kyminn sighed. "True. Doesn't stop me from wishing though." He gave her a quick squeeze. "I believe the Farseers who say the area is safe, but I'm still going to worry."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

 _CYDRIS_

They made an odd procession. A string of wagons, guards, Healers and Heralds, following a track beaten across the hills by the advancing army. There was no army now, simply empty rocky hills, abloom with gorse and pink and white flowers that were unfamiliar to her, but pretty nonetheless.

It was a rugged, unyielding land, she decided, and it had birthed a rugged, unyielding people. Still, there was a frank beauty here and as she watched the grey-clad Herald leading them, she had to acknowledge that there was some good too.

Eventually, the Herald bent away from the beaten path, guiding them to a place from his memory.

It was a small spring, the grass about it untouched and rippling in the breeze.

She looked up, startled to see their wagon had drawn up on the halted Alberich.

"Test this, for fouling or poison, can you?"

"Hmm." Cydris regarded him thoughtfully as she hopped down from her seat. She took a drop of water on her hand and as she had for the king (had it really be only a fortnight ago?) she tested the water.

"That would have been like those bastards, wouldn't it? Spoil what's behind them so the Karsites couldn't follow."

"My thought," was all Alberich said.

"Well, it's clean. You can bring them all in." As she stood up, Alberich waved the teamsters forward and Cydris stepped aside to let the teams drink.

Humans and beasts alike watered, Alberich lead them back to the dusty track, following it deeper into Karse as the westering sun turned the sky first gold, then red, then deepening shades of blue.

She was beginning to wonder if they would keep on into the night when a commotion at the front of the column slowed their wagon. Herald Alberich and Kantor were surging forward, dashing up the small rise in front of them.

Alarm rippled through the column, fading more gradually than it had arisen when the expedition realized that none of the Heralds had sounded a warning. In fact, they seemed rather…excited.

Alberich disappeared over the rise and a few moments later, the Heralds shouted the news "They've found them!"

Cydris found herself beaming with delight and clutching at her seat as their wagon lurched into first a trot, then a canter as the entire column surged towards their goal.

It was the most remarkable thing Cydris had ever seen. A flood of children, with a few adults scattered amongst the horde. Every child bore a small bundle and either carried, or lead by the hand, a smaller child. Small donkey carts, or simply carts pulled by an older child…this wasn't the disorganized, fearful mob they had been expecting. This was happy purpose.

"What the…" it was the carter managing their wagon. "Look at them!"

It took her a moment to realize what the man meant. These were children whose only experience of Valdemar and Heralds was as an enemy, White Demons and diabolical tales. But these children were running _towards_ the Heralds, cheering and shrieking in childish delight.

She didn't wait for the wagon to stop. She tumbled out of the wagon along with her fellows and launched herself towards the children. She couldn't understand the words, but a child's smile and open arms didn't need any translation. In short order, she found herself with a child in each arm and more arms fiercely hugging her legs, her waist – any part of her they could reach.

It was the strangest, most chaotic joy possible. As she passed children into the wagon, each clung tightly in a happy hug. She found her cheeks wet with tears of laughter as she took a moment to savour each child that passed through her arms, this impossible gift of small humanity.

In less time than she could have imagined, they got everyone sorted out. Or rather, the children sorted _themselves_ out. It soon became clear that the older children each had a group of littles in their particular care and the littles knew which group was theirs. There were no squabbles or tears, just tugs at one's tunic and lots of pointing.

Smaller carts were hooked to the wagons and somehow, they crammed everyone in.

As they turned back the way they came, the Healers passed out food and water. Again, by some miracle, there was no squabbling. Hungry as these children so clearly were, they shared willingly, making sure even the smallest child got their share.

It was true dark by now and the Valdermarans grew tense. Although the full moon made the track nearly day-bright, the hills still held shadows.

"Alberich says not to worry," Cydris didn't recognize the Herald. "The Karsites don't go outside at night. Their priests make sure of it. Karsites are raised on tales of demons that hunt at night and _no one_ goes out, not even their Guard. We're safe."

It seemed odd that an entire people would be so strongly bound by such a tale, but Cydris had seen enough of Karsites in the last three years to find it extremely plausible that their priests would use Gifts, trickery or uglier means to reinforce their religion. She relaxed.

She dozed then, waking when the column stopped again at the spring for water. The night was warm and she was wedged into a corner, two children on her lap and more than she could count snuggled up around her. She couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to.

 _SCENE BREAK_

The few days that followed were a strange admixture of sorrow and joy. Fortunately for the Healers, Selenay's staff took charge of recording and sorting out the children. It became clear very quickly that the children had formed families of their own, some in small groups of two or three, others as large as a dozen. Orders, unneeded but made official just in case, came down that the children were to be allowed to remain in their little groups, to retain what bonds they had managed to form.

There were still wounded to treat, but as these patients became able, they were shipped back north, often in company of a dispersing Guard unit. Only the dead came off the battlefield now, and every sunset was marked by funerals.

In a steady stream, the children passed through the Healer's hands. Unsurprisingly, the Tedrels hadn't bothered with any child who was less than whole in mind and body. Overall, the children were surprisingly healthy although they brought with them the assortment of fleas, parasites and rashes one would expect from growing up in neglect. Most of the conditions were easy to treat and the Healers were kept busy mixing up medicines and handing out strong soap.

One persistent skin condition gave them pause, a scaly lesion on the scalp and limbs. That one took a day or two to sort out until one of the Healers identified it as a burrowing skin parasite. The appropriate salve and potion was added to the regimen.

Since all of these conditions, although minor, were contagious, the Healers found themselves downing the same pills and potions they were prescribing. As one Healer pointed out, it made getting the medicine into the children easier when they saw you taking the same thing.

In reality though, getting the children to take their medicine really wasn't a problem. The children proved to be extraordinarily well behaved and more often than not had to be dissuaded from helping rather than the reverse. Watching a child help an orderly change bed linen, or hold bandages during a dressing change was undeniably startling at first.

The wounded adored the children and even the most badly injured managed a smile when an earnest young face carefully fed you.

In short order, it seemed like everyone had a cluster of children tagging along, tidying up and helping out. Kyminn was rather bemused to return to his tent one day to find the bed turned down, lamp lit, and water warming over the brazier. A young boy, around 9 years old, was carefully sweeping the floor, making sure to get every speck of dirt.

As Cydris stepped in behind him, Kyminn smiled at her. "We seem to have acquired some helpers."

"I see." Cydris took in the neatly folded clothes and orderly scene. The young boy was smiling at them, clearly asking their approval of his work.

"It's good. Thank you." _Please_ and _Thank you_ were amongst the very first Valdermaran words the children all seemed to have learned.

The child beamed and hugged them both. A tug at her tunic and Cydris looked down. Two little girls, perhaps five or six years old, stood there. One held a bundle of fragrant herbs and the child mimed hanging them up. The other clutched a bouquet of wildflowers. The boy tugged on the one girl, showing her where he'd set up a mug and water, then helped her arrange the flowers.

It didn't surprise Kyminn and Cydris in the slightest when the three children made up their own bedrolls on the floor. Nor did it surprise them to find small warm bodies curled up with them sometime well before morning.

Within the day, the three children – Ansen, Niyeh and Mehrhet were firmly ensconced into the household.

"Kyminn, what are we going to do with them?" Cydris was curled up in their suddenly expanded bedroll, Mehrhet asleep on her lap.

He sighed. "It seems like everyone has acquired a child or several. Even Tysen has a pair of the older boys. I think he said they are twins. Besides," he smiled fondly at Ansen, as tidy in sleep as he was awake. They _need_ us, love. And…maybe we need them too. I know we've only been married less than half a year, but the war's over now. Who knows what we'll be doing next? My dear, we've survived so much already together, we can manage this too."

"What about Tannel's project? The missing children? By the time we get back you'll have gotten answers to your inquiries with the Teamster's and Wool Guilds. This inquiry is…not necessarily a safe thing."

"I know, and believe me, it worries me too. But…aside from the initial incident with Renya, she's been left alone. I honestly think that the fact that she's under my protection has been part of that. It's that or she was simply a random target of opportunity and Group X has moved on to easier prey. In any case, they haven't shown any sign of moving openly – against me or anyone else. I think…I think that the children are safe with us. Or at least, at no greater risk." He paused, then added. "And we do live on the palace grounds. If that's not safe, I don't know what is."

"Which brings up another question. Kyminn, where on earth are we going to _put_ them! We need two bedrooms or sleeping quarters, three as they get older. Our little 'linen closet' is _not_ going to suffice!"

"I know! Believe me, I know!" He shook his head, laughing quietly so as not to wake the sleepers. "And I promise, I'll figure something out. Or rather, we will. Love, I've been on the road for five years now and between my stipend and bonuses, I've got a good bit tucked away. I've been incredibly fortunate in that my needs and those of the dogs and horses have all been covered by the crown thus far. I know that it's probably going to change now, but we could probably put a down payment on a small cottage if you wanted and between both of our stipends, we could manage."

"I had heard…" Cydris stroked Mehrhet's short hair. The children had arrived with short, raggedly cut hair, courtesy of a token attempt by the camp followers at keeping vermin at bay. Cydris had trimmed it up as best she could, but it would take a while before it grew out again.

"I had heard that the children arrived with some coins and other small loot. It's being held by the Heralds. Maybe we could put that aside for their education? Or use for their upkeep if we really had to."

"Let's keep that latter as a last resort. We can't be the only people wondering how we're going to manage a sudden change in circumstances for housing and upkeep. I know some of the wagons came back with loot from the Tedrel's camp. I imagine the Queen will come up with some kind of plan for making sure the children are taken care of. Even if we never get help, we can make it work. Most Healers have families, after all. They just take longer to accomplish it." He grinned.

"I guess that's what we are, isn't it? A family. I always expected we'd have a family someday, but I certainly never expected this!"

"I seem to recall that you included that as part of our wedding. That you never knew what I was going to do next. I'd hate to be a disappointment!"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It was heartbreakingly simple. Kyminn and Cydris, children in tow, presented themselves to the appropriate member of the Queen's staff and declared their willingness to adopt the children. Herald Laika translated for the children, whose exuberant agreement left no doubt as to their feelings on the matter. Their names were recorded, and on the master list of orphans the children's names were appended to add 'Danner'. Since none of the children had a previous surname, it was a matter of filling in a blank.

Herald Laika spent an unexpectedly long time questioning the children and after much pointing, head scratching and childish grins, Herald Laika made some additional entries on the record.

"None of the children know their ages, but we've been able to guess. The Healers," she nodded at Kyminn and Cydris, "have helped a lot with that. They make a good guess from bone development and between that and questioning the children, we can guess to within about half a year. Ansen here is nine and he was probably born during the autumn sometime. He's chosen a birthing day of the fifth day of ninth moon. Mehrhet is six. Ansen remembers her joining their group and from his description, she was about two, which fits. She was also most likely born in the fall. She wants to know what day you were born on, Cydris."

Cydris looked startled. "Oh. My birthing day is in second moon, on the eleventh."

Herald Laika translated this and then passed on the response. "Mehrhet would like the eleventh day of tenth moon, if that's alright with you."

"That would be lovely!"

"Last but not least is Niyeh. Niyeh is also six, as it turns out. She was probably born in the late winter or early spring. Ansen says one of the women says Niyeh was born in third moon. Niyeh can't make up her mind though and would like Kyminn to pick a day for her."

Kyminn thought about it. "Today is the nineteenth day of fifth moon, and it's the day you joined our family. That makes today special. How about the nineteenth day?"

And just like that, they were a family of five (six, if one included Renya, which Kyminn certainly did). Cydris exchanged bemused smiles with Kyminn as she tried to loosen Niyeh's choking hug. "I can't wait to see Renya's face when you tell her she's suddenly gained three siblings."

"Oof. Yes. I wonder if I can slip a letter into one of the dispatch pouches going north? I think giving her a bit of warning might be in order."

"Better do it quickly. We're leaving on tomorrow's troop transport."

Somehow, in the packing and bustle, Kyminn managed to dash off a few lines to his foster-daughter. It proved harder to write than he'd thought. What if she thought she was being displaced? How to explain this?

In the end, he simply did his best,

 _Dear Renya,_

 _By the time you get this, we will be on our way home! We are both well and relieved beyond words that this war is finally behind us. We are so looking forward to getting back home again._

 _I hope your studies are going well. I understand you've been able to keep up your equitation lessons. I'm glad, I know how much you enjoy them._

 _I know how news travels and you may have heard some pretty strange stories from what is happening here. I wanted to write and set things straight._

 _After the Tedrel army was defeated – and they ARE defeated, Renya. Defeated and gone forever – we learned that they left some people behind. They left behind children, Renya. Orphans, captives – over a thousand children, abandoned in the wilderness. Some of these children lost their families in much the way you lost yours, while others never knew their parents. We were able to save them, and the Queen has made a place for them in Valdemar._

 _Almost every person here has added a child or two to their household – there are so many and they need us so badly! Renya, Cydris and I have added to our family as well. We have adopted three children, so now we are a family of six._

 _I think you will like them Renya. Ansen is quiet and dark haired. He reminds me of you, but a bit more serious. He's about a year younger than you. Niyeh and Mehrhet are both six, but Niyeh is a few moons older. Niyeh has curly brown hair and freckles. She likes to laugh and give hugs. Mehrhet is dark blonde and I think her hair will grow in straight (it was rather hacked off, I'm afraid). She is still very quiet and serious, but I think she has a very caring heart._

 _I want you to know that I would have asked you about all this if it had been possible. But…they slipped into my heart, much the way you did dear-heart. I hope you find room in yours for these children too._

 _All our love always,_

 _Kyminn_

There. It was the best he could do. He sealed it and gave it to the dispatch rider, wondering what Renya's reaction would be on the other end.

 _SCENE BREAK_

The trip home was a strangely idyllic time. Kyminn was relieved that their wagon train left several days before the Queen was due to depart. _That_ train would be bearing the body of the King, and Kyminn was just as glad to not be part of that painful, final journey.

The wounded in their company needed care of course, but there were no crises. Just wound care and rehabilitation. In many ways, it was the least pressing workload either of them had ever experienced.

The six sennights on the road gave them an opportunity to adjust to their new status as full-time parents. The children were eager to learn Valdemaran and everyone in the train picked up a few useful phrases of the children's polyglot tongue. "Stop!" and "Come back here!" along with "Do you need to use the jakes?" seemed to be the most common.

As the children settled in, their personalities began to emerge. Niyeh proved to have a bubbly personality and was almost always smiling at something or other. Ansen would simply roll his eyes, sigh and fish her out of whatever predicament she'd managed to get into. He was the one who climbed the tree to tie a rope around her when she got stuck and couldn't get back down.

Kyminn merely dried Niyeh's tears and shook his head. He figured the fright she'd given herself was lesson enough. He couldn't understand the scolding that Mehrhet delivered her errant 'sister', but just as he was about to interfere, Mehrhet huffed in exasperation, threw up her arms in exaggerated frustration and hugged Niyeh.

As the two walked off, arm in arm, Cydris laughed. "I'm not sure what Mehrhet said, but I'm willing to be that last phrase was 'I told you so!'".

He threw back his head and pealed laughter. "So, are you having fun yet?"

She leaned back and regarded him. "You know what? I rather think I am! It's certainly different, but it's much more happiness than any other part."

"I'm glad." He slipped an arm about her waist. "Do you know what _I_ am liking about this part?" He gave her a mock-lascivious leer. " _I_ like that the tent they've assigned us has two rooms and that children are secure enough that they don't crawl in with us until the very wee hours. That gives us oh…a couple candlemarks of privacy every night."

"I see. Now I begin to understand why you are so keen to move out of our little linen closet." Her elbow dug into his ribs, but not hard enough to disrupt his laughter.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Their last stop before home was the Guard camp just outside Haven. Here, most of the levied troops would be released and sent home. Most of the units in their convoy were from farther north, so small groups would be moving onwards.

The wounded though, would be remaining here. Some would later be transferred to Healing Temples or other places for recovery, but this base was the main administrative clearing house for the wounded. As a result, the group found itself resting at the base for a few days while the personnel and goods were being processed.

Kyminn was taking advantage of the lull to show Cydris and the children around, for he had spent a good deal of time here during the past two winters.

"Kyminn?" The voice behind him was vaguely familiar as he turned.

It took Kyminn a moment to put a name to the face, but when he did, he broke into a grin.

"Bryce! Gods, but it's good to see you!" He clasped the soldier's arms in a fervent greeting.

It had been two years since he'd last seen Corporal Krahn. The two had served together during Kyminn's tumultuous term at Warford and then again briefly during the first year of the war. They'd lost touch in the interim. It was good to see his old friend again.

"I wasn't sure it was you at first," Krahn admitted. "I see there have been a few changes." The soldier indicated Kyminn's cane and the scar on his cheek.

"Well, yes," Kyminn hadn't stopped smiling. "May I introduce you to the best change? You may not remember her but she worked in my unit that first year. I believe she may have taken some sort of blow to the head at some point, because she eventually agreed to marry me. Cydris, this is Bryce Krahn. Corporal Krahn was my first friend at Warford."

Bryce grinned at Cydris. "I thought you looked familiar. You had just gotten your greens, if I recall. Congratulations Kyminn, and Cydris, my condolences."

She laughed as she reached out her hand. "Thank you, I think. Kym has told me many stories of the three of you at Warford. Tell me, do you still knit?"

"Alas, my lady, very seldom these days. Perhaps I'll have to take it up again. If only to show Kyminn up!"

Ansen tugged at Kyminn's tunic. In careful Valdemaran, he said, "Who is, please?"

"Bryce, I'd like you to meet Ansen, Niyeh and Mehrhet Danner." He grinned at Bryce's widened eyes.

"I see. Normally, I'd insert an inappropriate joke about newlyweds here, but I'm thinking there's more to it than that. Let me guess – adopted from that mob of little ones everyone's talking about?"

"Indeed. It's been an interesting experience, to say the least!"

"Well, if you have time, I have a dispatch that I think you two might find interesting. Can you stop by?"

The two Healers exchanged looks and shrugged. "Certainly. I was just giving everyone a tour."

"Follow me then," Bryce lead the way towards one of the administration buildings. Kyminn blinked in surprise. "Hey! I just noticed! Congratulations, _Sergeant_ Krahn. When did that happen?"

"Late last year." Bryce gave a half smile. "I admit I was due, but to be honest, I think it was partly due to attrition, I'm afraid."

"And ability," Kyminn said soberly. "You were always very good at your job Bryce. You just weren't so good at playing nice with your superiors."

"True. I like to think I've outgrown that part though." Bryce pushed open the door and let them all troop in.

"This dispatch is only peripherally related to supply, so we just got an information copy. It's public information though. I was catching up on some paperwork a few days ago and came across it."

The dispatch was a simple announcement that the Queen had established an Allowance for the care of children adopted from the "Tedrel Refugees". Most of the dispatch was unintelligible to them, related as it did to various regulations around military dependents.

Bryce finished leafing through another set of dispatches. "Aha! Here you are!", he pushed the ledger towards Kyminn and Cydris. "See? There you are. You're on the register as having adopted three refugees. That entitles you to…" he flipped to another series of pages and read the line aloud" …per month as an Allowance for the care of the children." Krahn looked up. "It's not a lot, but it should keep you in groceries at least."

"Thank you, Bryce! That's very helpful!" Kyminn looked at Cydris. "As long as we're careful, we can put some money aside for an apprenticeship or other schooling if they want when they're older. I admit, I'm relieved."

"Me too. Thank you, Bryce, for finding this for us."

"Don't worry about it," Bryce shrugged. "Like I said, I came across the dispatch. You're the first people I've met who have any adoptees so I hadn't gone through the list really. I didn't even know you were there."

"I'll tell you what," Kyminn smiled. "How about we buy dinner? I think our savings can stretch that far."

"Deal!"

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Excuse me, Healer Danner? Sergeant's Krahn's respects and he asks if you would stop by before you depart. He says he has some property of yours to return.

"Kym?" Cydris raised her eyebrows. Kyminn just gave a baffled shrug. "I've got no idea. He didn't say anything when we were at dinner the other night. Or when we went to the pub last night."

He didn't add that Bryce had mentioned in passing that Acting-Lieutenant Wellin Rath had, until recently, been posted to the base. The former cavalry Captain was profoundly bitter at his forced change of circumstances and was showing every sign of developing an unhealthy hatred of Heralds and Healers – and Kyminn in particular. To hear Bryce tell it, Rath was as rigid and narrow-minded in Supply as he had been in Cavalry.

Rath, however, had been posted some time ago and was, Kyminn profoundly hoped, a distant and very unpleasant memory.

Kyminn returned his attention to the attentively waiting soldier. "My apologies. Please let the Sergeant know that I'll be there directly."

The private saluted and trotted off. Kyminn slung the duffle at his feet onto the wagon and boosted Niyeh up after it.

"I don't expect to be long. Just don't leave without me." A peck on the cheek and he followed the distant private.

Cydris climbed into the wagon and settled in to wait.

"Ama!" Mehrhet patted Cydris's arm to get her attention. 'Ama' and 'Ada' were the terms most of the refugee children had settled on for their new parental figures. It was something out of their pidgin tongue and nobody seemed to know where it came from. Since it seemed to work for everyone, it had stuck.

"Ama!" Mehrhet pointed.

"Oh, by the seven small gods, Kyminn. You didn't…." Cydris tried not to groan.

At least her husband had the grace to look sheepish, although Cydris strongly suspected that had he had a tail, it would have been wagging as hard as the dogs. They were all there – Bull, Tip and Raf, drooling and looking extremely pleased with events.

"Kyminn…" it was a half wail.

"I'm sorry love, really I am! Bryce found they were here and they were about to be sent to another base. He found the paperwork that said they were actually only with the Guard on a temporary basis and that they could come back to me and they were going to be shipped out and it was the only chance or we might have lost them forever…" his words tumbled out as he tried to explain the three piles of fur at his feet. "I'm sorry." It was meek.

She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "I was hoping for, you know…more time…" she finished lamely. "Dear heart, where on _earth_ are we going to keep them? I assure you that we _cannot_ fit five people and three dogs into that room. If you try it, teeth and fur will fly and I guarantee you that it will _NOT_ belong to the dogs!" Her voice had risen gradually until she found herself nearly shouting. Her jaw clamped shut and she glowered at him.

"I'll make arrangements to board them at the palace kennels until we get things sorted out. They won't stay with us until we have the space. I promise!"

She looked from her pleading husband to the quivering dogs to the totally entranced children. How on earth had she gotten herself into this?

She sighed and relented. "Very well. But no visits to our quarters. Kennels only." A vague gesture. "You may as well introduce them to the kids."

The children, unsurprisingly, were as happy to meet the dogs as the dogs were to meet them. Kyminn assured her repeatedly that he had told the dogs the children were 'puppies' and 'part of the pack' and that the dogs understood.

She simply shook her head in resignation and climbed back into the wagon. Fur, feathers and chaos. Her prediction was coming true.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 _A/N The first part is because...Tantris. You're welcome._

It was a strange sensation to return to the Healing Hall. It was both 'home' and not. With the war over, neither of them really knew what the future held.

The children had been agog as the wagon wended its way through the streets of Haven. The orderly Guard base had at least held a faint touch of the familiar, but this…this was beyond anything they could have imagined!

As the children clambered down, Kyminn was rather surprised that they hadn't bolted off to go exploring. As he continued to unload their gear, he realized sadly that the children's experience with new places and faces had probably been painful lessons in caution. Childish curiosity and Tedrels were not a happy mixture.

Still, that didn't keep the children from wandering around in the immediate vicinity, staring and pointing, nattering to each other in tones of wonder.

"I'll start moving things inside," Cydris slung a duffle over one shoulder as Kyminn continued the rest of the chore.

He stopped, startled, a few moments later when the duffle thumped to the ground at his feet. Kyminn looked up and realized the look on Cydris's face was…not good.

"Kyminn…" it came out strangled. "There's a problem." She looked exhausted and like she wanted either scream or burst into tears. Or possibly both.

"What's wrong, love?" He took her gently by the shoulders.

"It seems…" one hand flailed vaguely towards their building, "that someone left a window open while we were away. A pigeon got inside. There's a nest on the corner of the cabinet and…pigeon…everywhere."

Kyminn closed his eyes and started to say a very bad word, but stopped himself, inserting another one instead.

Sudden titters from the girls and Ansen's startled gasp reminded him that if one is trying not to swear in front of small children, borrowing words from Karsite soldiers wasn't going to work in this case.

It took longer than it normally would have for him to marshal his thoughts. Finally, he took a deep breath.

"How about this then. You and the girls go back into town with the wagon. Find us an inn for the night." He looked around at the pile of gear and errant dogs and children milling around in the courtyard.

"Kyminn, I haven't enough money with me to pay for that. And what about you and Ansen?" Kyminn had never seen Cydris so drawn and tired.

He thought furiously, adjusting his initial plan. "I'll track down a pay clerk while you wait here. All you have to do is sit in the shade and mind the girls. I'll even set the dogs to herd them for you.

"Take…Tip with you. I'll dig out his working harness and some paper. Once you find a place, send him back. I'll make sure he gets here. Ansen and I will clean up and bring a change of clothes for everyone. I know you wanted to spend the night here at home love, but trying to move in and clean up with all of us here…one more night away?"

Cydris looked peevish, but seemed to realize she was being unreasonable. After all, the pigeons certainly weren't _Kyminn's_ fault. She wrestled with her sudden burst of annoyance and nodded. "Thank you, Kym. I'm sorry. It just took me all rather by surprise and knocked me back."

"Not to worry. It happens. I'll be right back."

It actually took nearly a candlemark to track down the proper clerk and sign for some of his banked pay. He did manage to find a hall boy and arrange to have some cleaning supplies and clean linens delivered, so it wasn't an entirely wasted search.

With Cydris, the girls and Tip headed back into town, Kyminn set the other two dogs to watching over the pile of gear (in his absence, Cydris had stacked it neatly off to one side) while he and Ansen tackled the room.

It was worse than he'd feared. Although there was presently only a single pigeon (and her pair of fledglings) living in the room, it was apparent that at one time there had been…rather more. It went a long way towards explaining Cydris's distress.

He was scraping dried pigeon chalk off a shelf and darkly cursing whoever had left the window open that handspan when he heard his name.

"Kyminn?" What on earth happened here?" Renya's voice said she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not.

"Ren!" His anger vanished and he dropped the scraper, sweeping her up in a fierce hug. "Ren, I'm so glad to see you!"

She matched his hug, squeeze for squeeze. "I'm glad you're both back! Is it really over? That's what everyone says, but…"

He pulled back and tilted her chin up so he could look at her eye to eye. "Yes. It's really truly over. There are no more Tedrels. Any that are left will find justice in time. Karse is defeated, hopefully forever. It's over, dear heart."

She simply hugged him again.

"Ada?" Ansen was looking in askance at this strange child, dressed rather like his new parents, who seemed to know Kyminn rather well.

Kyminn reached out an arm and beckoned Ansen over. "Renya, this is Ansen, who I told you about. You did get my letter, didn't you?" He tried to hide his anxiety, his hope she approved.

Renya regarded the newcomer. Her eyes clouded a bit as she took in the dark skin and eyes that bespoke his Tedrel heritage. Prodded by her Empathy, her expression softened as she took in the other signs of his past – the hacked off hair and healed flea bites, the vaguely underfed look of him. She could Feel his uncertainty at this person with a prior claim.

Her smile was oddly adult as she reached out a hand. "Ansen, I'm Renya Baden-Danner. I suppose I'm your sister."

Startled, Kyminn looked at Renya. He had never adopted Renya, simply accepted a place as her foster-brother and guardian.

She gave a small shrug. "When I got your letter, I had a long talk with Evin. I was kind of upset at first, but I thought about all the Trainees that come and talk to you, how you made me part of your family. I know that's what you do – you just…add people to your life."

A twisted smile of rueful agreement. "Well, sort of, rather. But…I didn't want you to think I was trying to take the place of your family. Or push you out!"

"I know. And you're not. But Ansen doesn't speak Valdemaran. This way, he knows that we're all together because we all have the same name. I thought it would be easier." Renya gave a childish shrug. "I can call myself whatever I want. This takes less explaining."

"Yes…." How to explain legal names to a ten-year old? "It's sort of like a nickname, I suppose. But for letters and things I think you had better stick to 'Baden'."

"Or you could add me to the family," Renya pointed out.

Ignoring Ansen for the moment, he knelt down until they were eye to eye. Gently, he said, "I would do that if you want. But I don't ever want you to forget your parents and siblings. This is a big decision and I wonder if you've had time to really think about it. How about we give it a bit of time and then talk about it again?"

That shrug again. "Alright." The bell rang and she grinned. "That's me. I'm on dishes tonight." She gave the startled Ansen a brief hug and dashed off.

Ansen looked after her in askance. "Ada?"

Kyminn held up his fingers and enumerated. "Kyminn, Cydris, Renya, Ansen, Mehrhet, Niyeh."

"Huh." Apparently some words were universal.

 _SCENE BREAK_

With some help from Dean Tannel and the palace staff, it took just over a sennight to secure housing. After conferring with the Dean of Healers, they settled on a short-term rental. Tannel had pointed out that it was unlikely that they would remain in Haven for the long term. For that reason, he advised against purchasing.

It was a very modest place, but it gave them the room they needed. The top floor held two bedrooms and a small nook that could be curtained off for a bed for Ansen. The girls were small enough to share a bed and that left Kyminn and Cydris a room of their own.

One drawback was that the privy was on the main floor, but since it was at least an _indoor_ privy, they weren't going to complain. One corner of the main held a cook stove that also served to heat the rest of the house. Given that they were about to enter the heat of a Haven summer, they didn't expect the stove to see much use.

There was no basement, simply a coal cellar, accessed from a door in the kitchen. The coal cellar was currently empty of all but coal dust and the children were firmly enjoined NOT to play down there in the choking filth. The dogs were similarly told that the 'puppies' were not to go down there. Kyminn was of the opinion the dogs were more likely to obey than were the children.

The remainder of the main floor held a dining table and chairs, with an old couch at the other end of the room. Fortunately for Kyminn, the house came with basic dishes and utensils. Aside from his camping gear – provided by the Healer's Circle – he hadn't a single pot to his name.

Moving into a house was a strange transition for all of them. The children, of course, had never lived in a house before and even the idea of an indoor privy was strange at first. It took Cydris two days to convince Mehrhet that the privy was safe and there was no risk of falling in. Niyeh, on the other hand, was the opposite and would happily have dropped in just about anything if she could.

Both Kyminn and Cydris were used to living on a schedule – years of teaching and caring for patients had made that part second nature. Having to feed, bathe and supervise on a schedule…that was entirely different. Working long hours and snatching whatever came to hand was one thing. Finding your newest daughter going through the cupboards and munching on a chunk of break because you got distracted…that was something definitely not in the realm of 'acceptable parenting'.

Strangely, it was the dogs who had the hardest time. They were happy enough to be around the family, but the press of people and noises from the city was another matter. Kyminn found himself constantly soothing and calming them until they stopped alerting whenever someone happened to pass by on the street.

It was, he had to admit, an awkward time for all of them. Each morning the entire cavalcade would make their way up to Healers. A school of sorts had been set up for the orphans who'd attached themselves to the various servants, Healers and even some of the noble households. For the time being, Cydris was helping with some of those classes as well as taking up her former work with Healer Trainees. Luncheons were at the College, supper usually something picked up in the market on the walk home. Breakfast was fruit and whatever they'd stocked up the night before.

As far as everyone else was concerned, Kyminn was working with Delassia on a book on rehabilitating injuries in Companions. To be fair, he was certainly spending at least _part_ of his time on the project. The rest of his time was spent digging through the information that had continued to trickle in over the spring. The notion that a travelling trade or guild was involved was a tenuous lead, but it certainly merited investigation.

Kyminn had written to the Teamster's Guild, along with several others who might conceivably have members or trade in that region. Of the Teamsters, he asked if they kept record of passengers and if they had ever had a member by the name of Lassman. For the other guilds, he simply asked if there had ever been issues in the area with missing or mis-delivered goods.

He would greatly have preferred to visit the Guild halls and make his inquiries in person. It would have let him get a better sense of the truth behind the answers as well as it being much harder to ignore the man standing in front of you. Unfortunately, other priorities had left him no other option. It might also have explained the disappointing results. The responses he got back were brief and more or less cordial, but they all amounted to the same thing, "We don't have that information and if we did, we see no reason to share it with you."

The exception was the response from the Teamster's. _That_ letter came with a strongly worded and extremely condescending lecture on guild privileges, member privacy and upstart Healers. It ended with the observation that it would require an order from either a magistrate or Herald before they would let "an outsider with no standing go on a fishing expedition in an attempt to slander its members."

For a brief moment, Kyminn entertained a pleasant daydream which involved him showing up at the Guild Master's house with a Royal Warrant and watching the result. Too bad he'd turned it back over to Talamir several years ago.

Instead, he set it aside – another problem to chew on – and opened the next letter.

 _SCENE BREAK_

 _Hot! Hot! Coughing! Can't breathe! Choking! Burning! Smell of burned flesh. Smell of burned fur. Pain! Pain!_

Kyminn shot upright, dragged from a deep sleep. He gasped, sides heaving as he fought for breath.

"Kym?" Cydris twisted over and looked at him in sleepy concern. "What is it?"

Kyminn shuddered, his Gifts _reaching_ …the house was dark and silent. Tip and Bull snored on the floor of the girl's room, sound asleep. Raf lifted her head from the foot of the bed and her tail thumped the floor.

 _Hot! Pain! Choking. Gasping. Death._

His Foresight hammered at him and Kyminn flung off the covers. "Fire. Soon and close. Get the girls, I'll get Ansen. Get outside, now!"

She started to say something, then saw the look on his face and stopped. They could argue later.

Burdened with two half-awake children, she nonetheless found herself nearly pushed down the stairs by her near-frantic mate. "Hurry!"

"I'm hurrying!" she snapped, then stumbled as one of the dogs got underfoot in the dark. "Move you darn dog!" she gave a shove and then a bump with one hip to the door and they were stumbling into the street.

Kyminn was on her heels. "Across the street, hurry. Farther away."

She fetched up against the house across the street, the girls muttering petulantly at being awakened. Ansen was somber and silent, his eyes wide as he pressed against Kyminn.

They made a bizarre sight – five people in their bedclothes while three dogs wove and whined around their feet. The warm summer night was quiet, even the inns a few streets away gone silent.

"Kyminn…" she looked around. There was no smoke. No alarm. Everything was as it should be. Everyone was where _they_ should be – where she wanted to be. Namely, asleep in their beds.

Kyminn had the familiar distant, strained look she knew well. Privately, she called it his "lost in the future" look. It was frustrating because his Foresights were more often cryptic than they were actionable.

He shook his head. "It's soon, and it's bad." A silent thought and the dogs fanned out, looking for anything which might have explained his Foresight. Kyminn cocked his head, frowning.

"What is it?" Cydris put the girls down, clasping their hands firmly.

"I'm not sure. Raf smells a stranger at the house. She smells something strange." Kyminn gently loosened Ansen's grasp and transferred the boy to Cydris.

"I'll be right back. Wait here."

"Kyminn!"

He glanced at her. "I'll leave the dogs with you. You'll be safe. I'll be careful. But I think only one of us should go." He gestured at the silent, staring children.

A stiff, reluctant nod.

Moving slowly, his limp was hardly noticeable. He carefully circled the house even though the dogs had already told him there was no one there. Crouching outside the coal cellar door, he paused. A faint light flickered through the crack.

Easing the door open, he choked on the pungent cloud of vapour. Dancing shadows and flickering flame confused the eye for a brief moment as he saw the liquid glistening on the floor. Gasping, he dashed in, scooping up the candle stub and tossing outside to gutter in the alley. Something bumped into him and he felt liquid. The acrid scent of coal oil filled his nostrils.

He wanted to vomit. Who wanted he and his family dead?


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Good gods Kyminn, what the hell is going on?" Tannel had the rumpled, dressed-in-the dark look of someone dragged from his bed in the middle of the night, but his mind was fully awake.

"I'm sorry sir," Kyminn's voice was thick with fatigue and strain. One hand held a mug of steaming tea, the other was firmly entwined with Cydris's. "I didn't know where else to go, who should be notified."

"You did right," Tannel grimaced. "You got the children sorted out?"

"Yes," Cydris sounded equally weary. "Thank you for that. After we sent the messenger, we still had to make a report to the Watch. By the time that was finished, your messenger was waiting for us when we got here. I got the children settled into the quarters you found for us while Kyminn cleaned up. The children are sleeping and the dogs are watching over them."

Kyminn was still damp from the repeated scrubbings to clean up the splashed coal oil. The clothes were beyond salvage, but that was the least of his problems. The patient's garb he was wearing was scratchy and unflattering, not that he cared.

"I think I got it all off," Kyminn shrugged. "It's hard to tell. I expect I'll have the stink in my nose for a few days still."

"What does the Watch say about all this?" Tannel eyed Kyminn.

"Not much. They asked me if I knew anyone who would want to harm us and I was able to say, with perfect honesty, that I hadn't a clue." He raked his fingers through his still damp hair, creating a bird's-nest jumble. "Frankly, I wish to gods I did. That would mean I at least know how to stop it." He hesitated, then added, "I…uh…may have left the Watch Commander under the impression that the attack was perhaps intended for the previous tenant. He suggested the possibility and I didn't exactly go out of my way to correct him."

Tannel frowned at this admission. "You realize you probably hindered the investigation by doing that."

"I know, but I wanted to talk to you first beforehand. I didn't know how widely you wanted to spread this information around. I decided it was easier to provide more detail than it would be to pull it back."

The Dean blew out his breath in a resigned huff. "I suppose I have to agree. I never, in my wildest dreams, expected this level of escalation. You have no idea what triggered this?"

Two firm headshakes. "The only thing that's changed," Cydris stepped in, "is that Kyminn sent inquiries to several Guilds. There was a very thin lead that we were looking at, so he wrote some general letters of inquiry."

"I sent the letters just before we left for the south. Whatever ant nest I kicked has had the better part of three moons to figure out how to react. Plenty of time for the ripples to spread through Group X." A bitter laugh. "I had actually been regretting that I'd had to write the letters. I was wishing that I'd visited in person, to get a better sense of the situation. I never dreamed that a face-to-face confrontation might be the safer choice!"

"Enough," Tannel shook his head. "Don't chase that rabbit, Kyminn. 'I should have' and 'If only' can cripple the decision-making process. You know that as well as I do. Let it go." The Dean looked at the two of them. "Tell me more about the attack. You said it was arson?"

A gulp of tea. "It was…disturbingly clever, actually. The house has a coal cellar. It's empty at the moment – we didn't know how long we were going to be there so we didn't bother to order any coal. Just a bunch of coal dust…"

"Which is pretty flammable, under the right conditions," Cydris was grim.

"Exactly. The arsonist hung a pair of waxed linen bags from the ceiling beam. Very thin fabric, fairly loosely woven. Barely able to hold liquid. I suspect he put very fine holes in the fabric as well, so the coal oil would fly out in a fine stream or mist."

"What do you mean by 'fly out'?" Tannel interjected.

"Exactly what it sounds like. He set the bags to spinning around the room, like a ball on a tether. As they spun, they spread coal oil everywhere. It made a cloud of vapour."

"And as the bags slowed, they spun closer and closer to the middle of the room," Cydris was savage with anger. "Where the bastard had a candle burning. Eventually, either there would be enough vapour…"

"Or the bags would come to rest right over the candle, still leaking coal oil. And when that happened…" Kyminn was grey with horror at the image.

"And the arsonist is long gone," Tannel breathed. "Immediate and catastrophic, self-timing fire. That's…diabolical."

"Isn't it just?" Kyminn took another gulp of tea. "I could wish our enemies were far, far more stupid than they are turning out to be."

Tannel shook his head, his expression dark and worried. "Well, this probably doesn't need saying, but I'll make it official anyway. You two will be staying here on the grounds for at least the foreseeable future. I'll report this to Talamir as soon as I can." Tannel looked sad for a moment. "He's doing much better since…Taver, but he's still not really himself yet." He held up a hand to forestall any objections, "I'll send the message straight away, but it may be that he delegates it for the time. He's been rather busy as the Queen's Own, you know."

They both nodded their understanding. Queen Selenay had her hands full at the moment, dealing with a grieving nation and a Council who weren't quite sure what to do with a Queen, instead of a King. A shocking number of mutterers seemed to think she should marry someone and let her spouse take the reins. Apparently, the whole notion that the ruler must also be a Herald was merely an inconvenience. Surely, she would yield to her 'wiser-by-virtue-of-being-a-man' husband and the kingdom could be ruled 'properly'. No, Talamir probably didn't have time to worry about a pair of nearly-murdered-in-their-beds Healers.

"In any case, you two are on leave, at least for the next few days. We'll see what the Watch and the Herald assigned to the Watch come up with before we decide our next move. First though, I want you both to get looked over by whoever is on duty."

"We're fine," Kyminn protested while Cydris nodded her agreement.

"You said yourself that that room was full of vapour. I want to make sure you didn't do any damage to your lungs. As well, you got it all over your skin. Get checked over."

"But Cydris and the children weren't anywhere near the coal cellar. Surely she can go back to bed at least?"

Tannel's headshake was grim. "Kyminn, Cydris, this person was _in your home_ ," he paused while they blanched at the memory, "Who knows what else he did? Slip something into your food? Spread a slow-acting poison on your sheets in case you survived the fire? I'm not taking any chances and neither are you. If you are both fine, then the children's exams can be postponed until morning, otherwise, no."

Reluctantly, they nodded.

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Hmm." The Healer on duty was an older woman, but not someone either of them knew well. "Well, Kyminn, the Dean was right. You do have a minor bit of irritation in your throat and lungs, but not enough to be concerning. About as much as if you'd gotten a face full of campfire smoke. Just to be on the safe side, no exerting yourself for the next couple of days." She went over to a shelf and picked through several small jars before selecting one. "Coal oil is an irritant and some people get a rash if it's on their skin long enough. I've Healed that part, but the skin will be dry and itchy while it heals. Use this."

Kyminn took the jar with a nod of thanks and began applying it to the red marks on his side.

"As for you, my dear…" The woman's eyes unfocussed while she probed carefully. She came to herself with a smile. "The good news is that I can't find anything. No toxins, nothing that shouldn't be there. You and the baby are both fine."

Kyminn's head swiveled around so quickly his neck cracked. "What?!"

Cydris's eyes were huge.

The Healer looked at from one to the other, her expression bemused. "I guess that I'm the first one to offer congratulations then?"

"But…I can't…It's not possible…" Cydris was sputtering, unable to form an articulate sentence.

"Ah…You two are married, yes?" The Healer raised an eyebrow until Kyminn nodded. "And you are intimate, presumably with each other?"

"Yes, but…I mean…Cydris takes the moon-bane draught. We both make sure of it!" Kyminn took a deep breath. "We only got married this past winter and went straight south. We wanted children someday…in fact, now we have three. How…?"

The Healer shrugged. "Aside from the obvious answer, I couldn't say. But you are very assuredly pregnant, I'd say about seven or eight sennights." She looked sympathetic. "Clearly, this has come as a shock to you both. I hope that however this turns out, that you two are happy." She squeezed Cydris's shoulder and slipped out of the room.

Kyminn turned to his wife. "Cydris, I _know_ we're careful. How…?"

A helpless shake of her head. "I've got no idea! Half the time, you make the draught for me! Oh, Kyminn, this is just…."

"Isn't it rather?" He slipped his arms around her. "It's not a disaster, but it's rather the last thing we needed right now, isn't it?" A weak smile. "On a normal day, I'd be quite thrilled. Shocked and appalled at the _timing_ , but thrilled. But on a night when someone wants my family dead…it's quite a bit more to take in."

"Gods, Kym. What are we going to do now? It was hard enough trying to figure out how to be parents to our other three kids. Now we have a murdering arsonist and a baby?" She sniffled. "I'm not sure if I can take much more of this!"

"Hey!" he gave her the gentlest of shakes. "We have at least seven months to figure out the baby part of this. By then, we should have a grip on how to manage the other parts of our family. As for the murdering arsonist…there's really not a good time to have one of those in your life." He caught a look at her expression. "Sorry. It's not funny. But we still have time to figure out _who_ our enemy is and either put an end to Group X or figure out a way to protect ourselves. Baby or no baby, we're either safe or we aren't. And while I agree that it's one shock piled on another, we'll figure this out."

She sniffled into his chest. "I hate it when you're reasonable, you know that?" But it was half-hearted at best.

"I know." His chuckle rumbled in his chest. "And when you're practical and keep me from flying off on some hare-brained idea, I feel the same way. Which is why I love you."

 _SCENE BREAK_

At Kyminn's insistence, the components of the moon-bane draught were tested for efficacy. He had to admit he was rather shocked when the Healer doing the testing rather peevishly reported that yes, the ingredients were as they should be and demonstrating all the expected properties. As for why the draught had failed to work, the Healer had no explanation, but the ingredients were not to blame.

It took a few more days – and another startled pregnant lady Healer – for the reason to become clear.

Eiven was apologetic as he explained. "Do you both recall treating the Tedrel children?" At their nods, he continued. "Most of their ailments were pretty much what you'd expect from children living in pretty squalid conditions. But lots of them had that odd rash."

"The skin mite," Cydris nodded. "I remember. I hadn't seen it before."

"Not many of us had. Apparently, it's a parasite that you only find in hot, dry climates, like Karse or southern Valdemar."

"Yes, but we treated it successfully." Cydris pointed out.

"Yes," Eiven agreed, "we did. And because it was so contagious, we all had to use the salve and take the herbal infusion."

"And?" Kyminn prodded.

"And one of the ingredients in the infusion was a plant local to the area. We tested it and knew it was harmless, so when the locally raised Healer said it should be included, we didn't see why not to." Eiven sighed. "Our herbalist here looked at it a bit more closely. She'd never seen it before, but she was able to identify it as being in the same plant family as pigeon berry."

Kyminn and Cydris groaned in understanding. Eiven nodded.

"Exactly. Pigeon berry neutralizes moon-wort, the main ingredient in the moon-bane draught." Eiven looked embarrassed. "For what it's worth, the fellow had no idea it was in the same family. He's quite mortified actually. And in case you're wondering, yes, we're reaching out to all the Healers that were there and suggesting they may want to see someone and get checked out."

"I suppose I'm glad that there's an explanation," Cydris admitted wryly. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd forgotten some key part or something." She and Kyminn were slowly coming to terms with the unexpected news. Telling the children had been an interesting exercise in pantomime since the adoptee's vocabularies didn't yet run to words like "pregnant". As for Renya, once she got past her initial reaction of "What were you thinking?!" was rather in favour of the notion.

The hardest part was their current level of uncertainty. With an unknown enemy and not even a home at present, trying to make plans was a strain. All they could do was wait for the investigation to play itself out.

 _SCENE BREAK_

This time, they were meeting with Dean Tannel in daylight, which was a welcome change from their last encounter.

"Sit down, and may I also offer my congratulations?" Tannel smiled.

"There are no secrets in the Healer's Hall, are there?" Kyminn grinned.

"Not when five of our Circle end up with the same…unexpected complication, no," Tannel admitted. "Fortunately, most seem to be coping with the news." He pushed a file over to them. "We have the preliminary report from the Watch. You're welcome to read it – in fact, I would encourage you to do so. Unfortunately, their findings can be summed up fairly succinctly: they don't know who did it." Their superior didn't look happy to impart that last. "They were very thorough and although I'm no expert in criminal investigation, I can't see any areas they might have missed.

"Nothing had any identifiable markings or ingredients. All of it was things anyone could pick up anywhere and the amounts were small enough to be unremarkable. The neighbours said they saw someone in Healer green there a couple of days beforehand, but they assumed it was a someone you knew. They weren't able to give a description." Tannel sighed, "As you know, often all people see are the Greens."

"Was it actually a Healer?" Kyminn was frowning thoughtfully.

"Probably not. I don't think it's that hard for someone to get their hands on a set of uniforms. What would be risky is getting stopped on the street and being asked to help. If the uniform was Trainee greens, it would be easy enough to say they didn't have the knowledge and refer the question elsewhere." A sigh. "We'll check into it of course, but it's probably a dead end."

"Damn," it was mild, but sincere. "So now what?" Kyminn glanced at Cydris, then back at the Dean. "We've been trying to figure out where to go from here but haven't had much luck. I suppose," and it was reluctant, "that we could stay at one of the larger Healing temples. I'm not sure they'd take in a whole family though – or want to take on the risk. And I would be reluctant to involve them without their knowledge…"

"Agreed." A firm nod. "Which is why I think I have a solution. It's temporary, but I think it will give us some breathing room." Tannel passed a letter to Kyminn, the expensive parchment heavy in his hand.

Kyminn raised his eyebrows as he took it, Cydris reading over his shoulder.

"This is from Lord Ashkevron," Kyminn looked up. "He's asking for Hugo back." Kyminn cocked his head. "I have to admit that I'm not surprised. Hugo may be too injured to serve as a warhorse, but he's an extremely well-bred and intact stallion. Hugo's retired from the Guard but would be an incredibly valuable asset to the Lord's breeding program."

"And I can't think of anyone more suitable to deliver him," Tannel pointed out. "Not only do you know the animal well, but I understand you were instrumental in managing his issues. You're one of the few people that can handle him and your Gifts make you a perfect choice to transport him safely."

The Dean pointed to the letter. "Lord Ashkevron has offered a very handsome sum for a delivery fee. You are both entitled to a substantial amount of leave and I checked – Kyminn, your family lives only a dozen or so days ride from Forst Reach. It's been a number of years since you've last been home, now would be a perfect time to make a visit."

Cydris was looking thoughtful. "We'd have to winter in Oakden."

"You would. You would be able to have the baby there and the little one would be at least 3 or 4 moons old before the roads would be clear enough for your return trip. I was thinking," the Dean eyed them both, "that your route north might take you through the region you were so interested in, the one with that questionable teamster."

"Do you think that's really a good idea?" Cydris was startled. "I mean, it's rather like walking into a snake pit isn't it?"

"I don't think so, love," Kyminn's response was slow, thoughtful. "For starters, a moving target is very much harder to hit. I know," he nodded as she started to interrupt him, "that it hasn't stopped Group X from acting against travelers in the past. But those were unaccompanied children. We'll be a larger group and you and I can both defend ourselves."

"I'll be a lot less able to defend myself when I'm several moons gone!" Cydris pointed out acerbically.

"Granted, but it won't stop you from using a bow. Or your Gifts in self-defense," Kyminn pointed out bluntly.

"Remember Cydris," Tannel pointed out, "that the missing children were going on a more or less direct route to a known destination. Going into the funnel as it were. We won't be able to prevent people from knowing where you're going – several dozen people know about Lord Ashkevron's stallion after all – but you have a fairly wide choice of routes. In addition, you are both strongly Gifted and that's no small factor. If you're asking if I'm sure you'll be safe, the answer is no. If you ask me if I think you're _safer_ than if you remain here, the answer is yes."

"The other children have to come with us of course," Cydris set her jaw firmly. "They'd be targets otherwise and I'm not going to abandon them for over a year!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way!" Tannel assured them both.

"So," Kyminn said thoughtfully. "Just a couple of Healers on leave, making a long overdue visit to our families and picking up a bit of extra coin in the process. Does that sum it up?"

"I believe it does," Tannel gave a nod. "Rather a good thing you're used to life on the road you two, isn't it?"


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N As fall progresses, my schedule will continue to fill up. Unfortunately, this means updates will become infrequent for at least the next few months. I'm sorry about that, but it is out of my control._

"You know," Kyminn gave a grunt as he heaved the heavy harness off the gelding's back, "I'm beginning to think that raising these children is giving us a warped idea of parenthood."

"How so?" Cydris led the animal forward and out of Kyminn's way.

"Well," he slung the harness onto the wooden pegs on the side of the wagon and commenced untangling the strands, "just look at the kids. When you were their age, would you have run off to do chores after sitting cooped up in a wagon all day?"

Cydris looked up from brushing the horse. The girls had headed into the woods to collect firewood while Ansen was hauling water from the little rill that bordered the meadow. Each child was accompanied by an attentive dog who served as both guardian and companion. "Definitely not," she allowed, resuming her task. "But by any measure, these are not typical children. And I'm not sure we'll be typical parents."

"What, do you mean to say that not all parents get a fully formed family and then run off into the wilderness while people are trying to kill them?" Kyminn gave the hanging leathers a final tug and flipped down the oiled canvas that would keep dew or rain from soaking the harness.

"I'm reasonably sure that no, it usually doesn't work that way." She scanned the wood-line in a sense of now-well developed maternal caution. "Kyminn, in many ways these children raised each other, older caring for younger, with few adults to rely on. As near as I can tell, the camp cooks fed them and the camp followers tried to attend them, but aside from that odd little cult of theirs, no one actually _raised_ them. They have had to be self-sufficient from a very young age."

Cydris stopped brushing and looked over at Kyminn, her expression grave. "Honestly, the longer they are with us, the more astonished I am that they didn't turn into wild savages. Gods know that the Tedrels themselves were brutal beyond measure. That the children, each and every one of them, came out of that camp with compassion, humour and an understanding of right and wrong…Kyminn, that's not just astonishing, it's a miracle." A headshake, "I honestly believe that there was something else at work in that camp, something intervening for the children."

A long hesitation. Finally, "You may be right. I certainly have no better explanation. I've seen enough over the years to realize that there are things…beyond our ability to understand."

Cydris smiled to break the gravity of the moment. "At least they will be excellent examples for their younger sibling."

He laughed. "Just as long as we don't let Niyeh babysit." Little Niyeh, affectionate and endearing, also had an insatiable curiosity and fearlessness that was constantly getting her into scrapes. Fortunately, she usually stopped long enough to consider the consequences of failure before proceeding. These pauses more or less served to weed out anything really dangerous, but life was suddenly very unpredictable with her around.

Unsurprisingly, the children had adapted well to life on the road. For them, it was a far more normal lifestyle than their very brief stay in Haven. Sleeping rough, dealing with weather and the many tasks of road life – to them, this was comforting and oddly stabilizing. Until the defeat of the Tedrel army, the children's only experience of settlement had been the Tedrel winter camps or sacked villages. Clean, orderly communities with permanent structures and a functional populace had come as a profound shock. Fortunately, the long trip back from the border to Haven had allowed the children to digest the concept and begin piecing together an understanding of Valdemaran society. This trip was allowing them to build on those beginnings.

Among the many necessities, Cydris had packed some children's primers and slates. The many candlemarks on the road offered ample opportunity to start the children's educations in earnest. Both Kyminn and Cydris were firm in the belief that once the children could read, their understanding of the new world they inhabited would grow in leaps and bounds.

It had been disquieting when Ansen brought them a picture of a farming family gathering to celebrate harvest and had asked what the picture meant.

"They are celebrating." At Ansen's puzzled expression, Kyminn tried again. "They are happy. They have food. They have homes. They have family. They celebrate."

Ansen looked at the picture questioningly. "Which one is mother? Which one is father?" He pointed to the several adults pictured and looked back at Kyminn.

Kyminn indicated one of the women. "This word is aunt. She is a mother and a sister." He pointed again. "Another aunt." "Uncle." "Grandfather." "Grandmother."

"But which one is Ama? Which one is Eda? Where is family?"

"Ansen, they are _all_ family. All to all."

Ansen gaped. "All? All are family?" He pointed and counted. "Three mothers? Three fathers?" Clearly, he was trying to picture the family structure.

Kyminn was flummoxed. How to explain the concept of extended family to a child just coming to terms with the notion that he now had parents? It hadn't occurred to Kyminn that knowing one's parents and siblings and cousins was unusual knowledge. Oh, he'd known the children were orphans and didn't know their origins, but he hadn't considered that they might not have any understanding of 'family' beyond oneself and one's own parents.

A slate was too small, so Kyminn flattened a patch of dirt. He placed a pair of pebbles at the very top.

"Cedran Bellman. Anya Bellman." Kyminn looked at Ansen and the lad nodded his understanding.

A line drawn down from the top pair to four branches and four new pebbles.

"Shanen Bellman, Keli Bellman, Davyd Bellman, Seth Bellman." Another nod, although Ansen was looking puzzled.

Kyminn placed a pebble beside the Keli Bellman marker. "Berrin Danner." Ansen perked up at recognizing a name.

Another line drawn down from the pair, this one with five branches. "Val, Celisse, Benn, Kyminn, Nalla."

Ansen looked from the pebbles to Kyminn. "Sisters? Brothers?"

"Yes. My brothers and sisters." Kyminn handed a pebble to Ansen. "Cydris."

Ansen hesitantly dropped the new stone beside Kyminn's pebble. Then, with a glance at Kyminn to make sure he was doing it correctly, Ansen found more stones and dropped them underneath the Kyminn and Cydris pair. "Renya, Ansen, Mehrhet, Niyeh." He paused for a moment and then added a small pebble. "Baby."

"Yes." Over the next while, Kyminn filled in the drawing, naming his siblings, cousins and other relatives. He waved his hand over all of it. "Family. These are all your family."

Ansen rocked back on his heels, taking it in. "You know…all?"

A nod. "Yes. Anya," he touched the appropriate rock, "Healer. Helped me." He pointed to his mother. "Healer."

Ansen looked up at Kyminn. "Family is big." He seemed surprised at the idea.

"Yes, you have a big family now."

Ansen opened the book again and regarded the picture with new understanding. "Your family?"

A headshake. "No, not mine. Just a family."

Ansen closed the book carefully as though it contained something precious and stared at the dirt drawing, lost in his own thoughts until bed time.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Kyminn twisted back to look over his shoulder. They made a rather impressive cavalcade. In addition to their own wagon, there was of course Hugo, the massive warhorse who was the ostensible reason for their trip. Hugo was alternately led or ridden by Kyminn, depending on the circumstances and whose turn it was to drive the wagon.

Accompanying them were four Guardsmen, all carefully screened by Talamir. The Guardsmen were actually from the north, having joined the war from lands around Forst Reach. They were all scout-skirmishers, mounted on shaggy mountain ponies and armed with powerful short bows. Each of the four was a veteran who had been mustered out at the end of the conflict. None of the quartet had been averse to earning an additional few sennights pay for making a trip home that they had been intending to take anyway. As a fillip for their extra service, each was being sent home with a remount, additional breeding stock for the northern herds. At present, those remounts were carrying additional supplies, mostly grain and dried goods for the trip.

"They're going to think we're an invasion", Kyminn muttered as he returned his attention to the road ahead.

Cydris snorted. "Kyminn, you could be a prince of the royal line and I'm pretty sure my family will look at you sideways."

"I think this is the part where you're supposed to be supportive." It was a grumble.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm rather expecting my family might be a bit difficult."

"So you've said, but you haven't offered any specifics. Given that we'll be there in a couple of candlemarks, do you think you could expand on that a bit?"

Cydris shifted on the bench, then sighed. "I'm the youngest child of my father's second marriage. He married very young the first time, shortly after he joined the Guard. He and his first wife had three children in very short order, all of whom joined the Guard as soon as they were able. Sometime around the time his then-youngest daughter was about 15, he met my mother. They promptly had two children – Cissi and Barritt. When his first wife found out, she dissolved the marriage. To the best of my knowledge, she and my half-sibs never spoke to him again. I've never actually met any of them."

Cydris gave a wry grimace. "My father was in his early 40's when he married my mother. She always told me she never knew he was married, but I've never pressed her on that score. I do know she's got extremely strong feelings about spouses who stray." It was dry.

"Can't imagine why…" Kyminn shook his head.

His wife nudged him but continued. "He left the Guard when his first wife left him. She got the bulk of his pension, so he had to start over.

"Bear in mind that I am ten years younger than Barritt and twelve years younger than Cissi. I was four or five when Cissi married and left home. I know she has a son and a daughter, but I haven't met either of them. Barritt is my father's factor and is on the road a fair bit. He's married and has two young children, but that's all I know."

"You said your family is in trade?" Kyminn prompted her.

"Yes. Father is actually the second largest landowner in the area. Our town is at the junction of two major roads and a couple of small local tracks. Father runs a general goods store. He buys things from a variety of traders and people come from all over to shop with him." A shrug. "The traders don't have to travel all over selling their goods one item at a time. They can sell my father 10 kettles and when someone needs a new one in a few months, they know where to get one."

She paused to order her thoughts before continuing. "Cissi married the son of the local innkeeper. The inn will pass to them – if it hasn't already, I'm not sure on that score. My brother married the daughter of the local brewery. The brewer just happens to be the largest landowner since he has extensive wheat and barley fields. So my family pretty much has all the trade and all the major lands all sewn up."

"Hm. I suppose that's not a bad thing, provided they're good managers." Kyminn was thoughtful.

"I have no idea. Remember, it's been over a decade since I've been back there and a lot of this took place after I left. I don't even know what kind of people my siblings are. I remember Cissi as kind of bossy and Barritt as always in trouble, but I was just a child then!" Her smile was rueful.

"Well, let's hope they've all grown up to be lovely people, shall we?"

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Cydris, my dear!" Although well into his sixth decade, Hallis Lancolme carried his years well. His thick white hair was neatly trimmed and his dark eyes missed little. His embrace was formal, the actions of a man unused to displays of emotion. Hallis pulled back and regarded Kyminn.

"So. You're him then. Cydris's husband." The tone was forthright, but not hostile.

"I am, sir. I am happy to meet Cydris's family at long last." The outstretched hand was part offer, part challenge.

Hallis Lancolme was at lease beyond petty hand-crushing games, but there was no warmth in the hand clasp.

"And these are our children," Cydris introduced the silent trio clustered around her legs.

"So I am given to understand." Her father shook his head. "Can't see why you'd do it, but on your own head be it."

Kyminn stiffened, but said nothing. He was beginning to think he and his father-in-law would see eye to eye on very few things.

"Come in, come in. Sit! Your mother and sister will be back shortly. They wanted to get some things for dinner. Cissi's husband can't come, but Cissi and your brother will be here for dinner."

It was an awkward candlemark or so as they attempted to make conversation. Hallis at least had a good notion of what a Healer's life was like and they were able to stay on fairly safe topics such as life in the Collegium or their respective service with the Guard. Kyminn was grateful that Hallis saw no need for 'war stories' and the like. Most of Kyminn's war stories were the stuff of nightmares these days.

"Cydris!" this then, was Cydris's mother. Younger than her husband by quite a few years, Enika Lancolme had nonetheless aged with grace and dignity. From the warm hugs Enika offered all of them, Kyminn got a keen sense of where Cydris's strong spirit had been nurtured.

"Cydris, it will be a while before dinner's ready and I bought the children a treat. Not much, just some bread in sugar and spices. I've given them to Shasta – he's in the back garden if the children would like to go get some."

A brief nod and the children disappeared in a flash. Cydris laughed. "Some things don't need translation!"

"I'm surprised they know any Valdemaran at all." Kyminn turned at the newcomer's dismissive tone, bristling with anger.

"Hello Cissi," Cydris sounded resigned. "Lovely to see you too."

"Of course it is!" The false laugh grated on Kyminn's nerves. "It's been so long, I know you've been _dying_ to see your dear big sister!"

"Naturally," Kyminn's anger dissolved as he heard the eye-roll in his wife's voice. He suppressed a grin as Cydris added thoughtfully. "You are, after all, my _older_ sister."

There was a pause as Cissi tried to decide if Cydris had been intentionally insulting or simply offering agreement. Eventually, Cissi gave a regal nod of acknowledgment and Kyminn notched a point for Cydris. His new sister-in-law was a woman trying very hard to be beautiful, but seemingly unaware that she was completely missing the mark. Cydris's jab her sister's age had been intended to prick Cissi's vanity, but Cissi hadn't noticed.

Kyminn very much wanted to settle in for what was shaping up to be a very entertaining, if one-sided, battle of wits, but Ansen's silent presence in the doorway drew him to his feet. He followed his son, leaving the family to their reunion.

"What is it?" Kyminn looked down at the boy in concern. Ansen seemed oddly troubled.

"The boy. He gives none." Ansen pointed to the garden.

Kyminn limped to the window and looked outside. A young boy of about seven was ostentatiously licking his fingers, his face smeared with sugar. An empty basket sat at his feet while Mehrhet, Niyeh and a child of about four looked on.

Kyminn turned to Ansen. "The boy ate it all?"

Ansen nodded, troubled.

Kyminn understood the boy's concern. For the Tedrel children, one of the most profoundly held tenets had been that of caring for one another. For one child to refuse to share was simply outside Ansen's experience. It was as though a bedroll had sprouted wings and was breathing fire.

How to explain this one? It needed vocabulary and candlemarks that they lacked. Finally, Kyminn simply tapped Ansen's chest. "You learn reading, right?" Ansen nodded, puzzled.

Kyminn pointed at his greedy nephew in the garden. "Shasta…needs to learn giving."

Ansen blinked, absorbing this. "You will help him?"

A sigh. "I will _show_ him. You will _show_ him. It is his parent's chore to _help_ him."

Ansen sniffed in disdain. "Mother should show him NOW."

Kyminn rather had to agree.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Shasta, it soon developed, was very much his mother's child. Supercilious and unchecked, Kyminn very quickly developed a cordial dislike for both his sister-in-law and her eldest child.

The stolen treat? "Oh, well, he must have been hungry. Boys will be boys you know."

Kyminn gritted his teeth.

At dinner, Cissi insisted that Shasta eat first of the children, "Since he's the oldest grandchild."

When Cydris pointed out that in point of fact, Ansen was the eldest, Cissi sniffed and added, "Of the true-born grandchildren, of course."

Kyminn said nothing and simply cut the choicest slice of meat he could find and plopped it on Ansen's plate.

When Ansen whispered "She should show him NOW!" Kyminn could only smother a grin and nod.

Determined to remain courteous to his new relatives, Kyminn cut a small piece of meat and gave it to Kiko, Shasta's sister. Kiko was four and was the other child Kyminn had seen in the garden.

"Not too much dear," Cissi admonished her daughter. "If you get too fat, no boys will like you."

Cydris nudged him under the table and he managed to bite his tongue.

"Hey!" The cry from the other side of the table distracted them. Mehrhet was looking indignantly at Shasta. The boy was calmly chewing a nut tart.

"Did he take your tart?" Cydris asked. At Mehrhet's nod, Cydris shrugged. "Take his."

Given permission, Mehrhet retrieved a tart. Shasta's retaliation was swift and Mehrhet squalled in pain at the savage pinch her cousin delivered.

Kyminn swept his crying child up, glaring at Cissi. "I think your son owns Mehrhet an apology."

"She took his tart!" Cissi scowled at Kyminn, drawing her son to her side.

"No, she took _her_ tart. One each." His words were terse and barely still civil.

A sniff. "She should have just given it to him if he wanted it. He's older. Besides, she doesn't need sweets anyway. She'll just get fat."

Kyminn cradled his sobbing daughter, his fury rendering him speechless.

"Cissi, I am not going to let Shasta bully my children. This is the second time today that he's taken something that's not his and now he's hurt my daughter. I won't tell you how to raise your child, but I also won't make my children put up with him." She gathered up Niyeh and Ansen and addressed her parents. "If you'll excuse us, we'll tend to our children and get them settled."

She slammed the door behind them. It was childish and petty and Kyminn wished he'd thought of it.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

As it happened, Kyminn remained upstairs to settle the children while Cydris went back downstairs to deal with her family. She returned sometime later, disgruntled but somewhat mollified.

"Well?", Kyminn handed over the night shirt he'd unpacked for her.

"Well," she wrestled her arms in and settled the garment over her shoulders, "Mother had a go at Cissi and I think my sister has agreed to back off on the comments. It still doesn't seem like we'll be seeing an apology out of Shasta any time soon, but our children aren't expected to socialize with him without adult supervision." Her glance was sour. "And I don't consider my sister competent supervision."

"That makes two of us," Kyminn wrung out a cloth at the basin and handed it to his wife. "Was she always like this?"

"Hard to say," it was muffled behind the facecloth. "She was always bossy, but I don't remember her as being quite so pig-headed." She nodded her thanks and took the proffered towel.

"I'm curious, did your father and Barritt weigh in on this?" Kyminn had had little opportunity to speak with his brother-in-law, Barritt having arrived just before the calamitous meal.

"Oddly enough, not really." Cydris brushed the tangles out of her hair as she spoke. "I got the distinct impression that Father is not happy with Barritt, but I'm not quite sure why. Barritt did point out that Shasta is spoiled - "over-indulged" is the term he used, but Father glared Barritt down every time Barritt opened his mouth. I've no idea what that's all about."

"We may never know. Or we may be treated to a shouting match. Honestly dear, I think that both are equally likely at this point."

She groaned and crawled under the covers. "I'm afraid I rather agree with you. I admit I wasn't sure what to expect, but my family clearly has no shortage of drama at present."

He chuckled and crawled in beside her. "Look on the bright side. They're much more likely to kill each other than us."

The next few days were a dysfunctional sort of détente. Cydris spent a good deal of time visiting with her mother. Together she and Enika paid a courtesy visit to the local Healer to check in and exchange news. Kyminn was delighted to see his wife enjoying Enika's company and seeing the two women interact on a woman-to-woman, mother-to-mother basis.

Cissi was largely absent, to Kyminn's relief. It let him spend a good deal of time talking to Barritt and Hallis. Here Kyminn's years of working for the crown and on the King's Levy stood him in excellent stead. The young Healer's knowledge of trade and the kingdom's various issues earned him a grudging respect from the elder Lancolme, Over the course of several days, Kyminn was able to extract first-hand knowledge of local trade patterns and the major players in the region. Barritt had a keen sense of market trends and it was easy to see how the family business had been so successful during Barritt's tenure as factor.

Kyminn also gained a sense of the issues and problems Hallis had encountered over the years and Kyminn's list of shady dealers and questionable men who 'didn't ask questions' gained several new names.

The main fly in everyone's soup and the cause of more than one argument, was Shasta.

Cissi's unwillingness – or inability – to curb her child's behaviour was maddening. Enika admitted privately to Cydris that the boy's father was extremely strict and that Enika suspected Cissi's permissiveness was compensation for the rigidity of the boy's home life. As far as Kyminn could tell, over-indulgence wasn't helping the child any more than excessive control was.

Instead, he and Cydris tried to referee and keep anything more than feelings from being hurt. During the five days of the visit, the boy:

Pushed and tripped the other children more times than anyone could count. It only slowed when the other children learned how to avoid him.

Got in a scuffle with Ansen after Ansen found Shasta poking the piglets with a stick – and this _after_ Hallis had specifically told Shasta not to bother the pigs.

Retaliated for the pig incident by tracking down Mehrhet and Niyeh and upending a bucket of stinking soil from the pig pen over them.

Threw a shrieking tantrum, complete with thrown crockery and flailing when Kyminn refused to let the child ride Hugo. Not even Kyminn wanted to trust his Gifts to keeping the skittish and cranky stallion under control with someone like Shasta on his back.

'Accidentally' spilled water at meals multiple times. Such spills invariably landed on the laps or in the plates of the other children. Eventually, Cydris simply took away his cup, serving the drinks a dribble at a time and only when he asked politely,

The final straw was when a clamour of barking from the barn brought all the adults at a dead run. There, a wailing and sobbing Shasta was being firmly dragged from the barn by a pair of irate mastiffs. Raff circled the trio, barking and howling.

"They're killing him!" Cissi's shriek should have shattered glass.

"Shut up, you daft woman. He's just fine!" Cydris's snarl would have done credit to one of the mastiffs.

Kyminn waded into the fray and retrieved the howling child, lifting him up by the scruff of his very damp neck. A mental command and the dogs fell silent, all of them glaring at the boy,

"They've eaten him, I'm sure of it!" Cissi continued to wail as she frantically pawed her blubbering child, searching for blood and missing body parts.

"I told you, he's fine." Cydris didn't even try to hide her disgust at her sister's carryings on. "He's just got a bit of drool on him is all. They just retrieved him.,"

'A bit of drool,' happened to be an understatement. Mastiffs are rather known for the quantity of slobber they produce. Still, Cydris was correct. Aside from the slime, there wasn't a mark on the child. This seemed to be lost on Cissi.

"They attacked him without provocation! They're dangerous and should be put down! I tell you, they're savage!"

Kyminn stood silently for a moment, staring abstractedly at the barn. Cydris noted the thunder building in his eyes and braced herself.

Kyminn said nothing. He simply limped over to Cissi and seized the boy by the scruff of the shirt. After a brief tug of war, Cissi weakly acquiesced.

Still silent, Kyminn marched the boy into the barn. Shasta had stopped crying at this point and was sniveling softly. The remaining adults, children, and by now a fairly large crowd of onlookers, followed.

Kyminn paused before a pile of stones on the floor of the barn. Wordlessly, he turned out Shasta's pockets, tumbling more stones and a sling out to join the incriminating pile. He then pushed his nephew into his wife's hands, releasing the boy only when she had a firm grasp.

It only took a moment for him to dig around Hugo's stall and find the projectile. He retrieved it and made the slow, limping walk back to the crowd. Kyminn took his sister-in-law's limp hand and dropped the stone into it.

"Your son attacked a _war horse_. An animal trained to respond to threats with immediate, deadly force." He pointed at the pacing stallion. "Those scars you see on his hide? Battle scars, honorable wounds gained in the defense of Valdemar. He has stomped attackers into _paste_ with less provocation."

Kyminn looked around at the crowd, his voice harsh with anger. "And before you go running for the magistrate for this being a dangerous beast, I'll tell you know that this horse is no more dangerous than your family dog is. Any child here could walk into his stall and be unmolested. But let someone he doesn't know try to lead him, or take his tack? He'll take their hand off."

He took a deep breath and throttled down his temper. "The only reason this didn't end badly was because the dogs intervened. They knew Shasta had been told to stay away from this barn and they were fetching him back to me." His look at Cissi was one of disgust. "They knew he was family, gods have pity on me, and were bringing him back to family."

Kyminn retrieved the now silent child from Cydris and pushed him towards Cissi. Her arms automatically clasped around her son and drew the child into herself.,

"I think it best," coldly formal, "That you take your son home and that he remain there for the duration of our visit. It will, I assure you," Kyminn glanced at Cydris and saw her faint nod, "be short as we will be leaving tomorrow."

 _SCENE BREAK_

"My dear, I'm very sorry to say this, but I don't like your sister." Kyminn was pacing their room, stress bleeding off him. "Your father seems decent enough as does Barritt, and your mother is simply lovely, but good gods, your _sister_!" He blew out his breath in exasperation.

Cydris watched him, knowing he needed to work through his feelings. "I admit that I'm not particularly fond of her either," she finally admitted. "But keep in mind that he _is_ a seven-year-old child. They aren't known for common sense."

He paused in his perambulations and sighed. "No, that's true. And we know that our children certainly aren't typical. But love, you have to admit that this is more than a childish prank. Not only could it have ended horribly, but it's part of a larger pattern of…casual selfishness and thoughtlessness that could see him grow into a very unpleasant person."

She echoed his sigh. "I know. And while I'm sorry that Cissi's marriage is an unhappy one, there's no excuse for her behaviour. I had a little chat with the local Healer and while Cissi's husband isn't cruel to her or the boy, he's not at all easy to live with. 'Public smiles and a private tyrant' is how she put it. Most people don't know and think he's wonderful. I'm afraid," and there was genuine sadness in it, "that Cissi is not well regarded in the village."

"I'm sorry to hear that, if only because she's your sister and it's normal to want a good, happy life for the members of our family. But I can't say I'm surprised. She'd have to make some awfully big changes for things to get better."

He sat down beside her on the bed and tucked an arm around her, "Where are the children?"

"In mother's vegetable garden," A faint smile. "It's the one place that Shasta is forbidden to go. Apparently, he's very careless and wrecks the plants. Makes a game of stepping on the squash and so on."

"He should try going hungry once or twice. That would teach him to destroy food." Kyminn was grim. Working in the war-ravaged countryside had shown Kyminn all too clearly what true hunger looked like.

"That's what mother said. Cissi didn't agree, but she does keep him out of the garden. Of course, that was the one and only time my father took a switch to him too, so that probably made an impression.

"Anyway, our children, Kiko and Barritt's girls have taking to staying in the garden as a way of avoiding Shasta. Mother doesn't mind as they are all very careful. She lets them eat any ripe vegetables they like so long as they don't waste anything. Her reasoning is that if they want to fill their tummies on fresh vegetables, all to the better."

"Mehrhet must be thrilled," Kyminn's smile was lopsided.

Among the many survival traits the children had acquired, an understandable, but complex one was a tendency to hoard food. Both Kyminn and Cydris understood the reason behind it – when one did not have a secure source of food, keeping some against future want could become a necessity that bordered on obsession.

This habit had become apparent almost immediately upon the children's arrival in the Valdemaran camp, and the Mind-Healers had been consulted as to how to handle the issue. The response had been to acknowledge the need and the Mind-Healers had offered practical suggestions as to how to help the children cope.

For Kyminn and Cydris, this meant making sure there was always a small bowl or basket set aside that the children could use at any time. At first, the dried fruit and oatcakes disappeared on a regular basis,

To prevent spoilage, or infestations of vermin, each child was given a small bag and basket. This was filled with dried foods and the children were allowed to stash these away as they wished. Once a sennight or so, Cydris or Kyminn would sit down with the children and have them retrieve their stash. It would be examined for spoilage and anything inedible discarded. The child then restocked their bag and was allowed to secret it once again. It meant a bit of food was wasted, but far less than there would have been had the children felt the need to sneak anything they could find.

It had taken several moons for Ansen and Niyeh to relinquish the need to set food aside, but eventually first Niyeh, then Ansen, grew less inclined to worry about restocking. Mehrhet still stubbornly clung to her hoard, although Cydris had noticed that the basket was now simply placed on a shelf above her bed. Apparently, she no longer felt the need to hide it away.

Cydris allowed herself to match Kyminn's smile at the thought of their daughter spending candlemarks surrounded by food that she was not only permitted, but encouraged to snack on whenever she wished.

The smile passed and Cydris resumed their previous discussion. "Anyway, it keeps them out of Shasta's clutches and they seem much more relaxed. Kiko has even unbent enough to stuff herself on fresh beans. Poor child. I'm sure she's going to grow up with a warped notion of her own worth, given Cissi's obsession with making Kiko grow up to be beautiful."

"There is no one true way, love." Kyminn made a face, "Misplaced priorities and poor parenting aren't grounds for interference. People are, unfortunately, allowed to be as stupid as they like…"

He broke off as raised voices erupted from the room below them. With raised eyebrows and a motion for Cydris to remain quiet, he slipped over to the window and opened it. Voices drifted in.

" – the HELLS am I paying twice the going rate for walnuts! And on a ten-year contract no less!?" Hallis Lancolme was clearly furious.

"Kyminn!" Cydris hissed. "We shouldn't eavesdrop!"

"We most certainly should," he retorted, "You forget that we're here to gather information. And while I don't think your family is likely to join the list of people who want to see us dead, if there's going to be trouble, I'd rather I saw it coming, thank you very much!"

She glared at him for a moment, then shrugged and joined him at the window. Their brief discussion had obscured part of the conversation, but it was easy to pick it up again.

"Don't prate on to me about good business. You haven't signed a contract this bad since the time you bought that load of stolen hides. I thought the Herald was going to string you up then and there!"

"Father, it's not like he produces several tons of walnuts in a season. I haven't tied down all our capital – I'm not stupid, you know. Just a good price on a few hundred weight per season, in exchange for other considerations."

"Like what?" Hallis retorted hotly.

"Well, preferred access to some of his landsmen, for starters," Barritt said reasonably.

"Who produce nothing that we can't buy closer to home and in the same quantities."

"And they are willing to ship in bulk. We can bring it in cheaper. And he may be a mere baron, but that's far more than we'll ever have. I think it makes sense to stay on his good side."

"It would have been better," Hallis was cutting, "For you to have stayed out of his wife's bed."

"What do you mean by that?" Barritt hedged.

"Last year it was the barmaid up on Endleton and her daughter. Now it's the baron's wife? Why the hells can't you keep your trousers up, man!"

"That barmaid's brat was NOT mine, Father, and you know it! She would have turned her skirt to anyone with a bit of shine and the better dressed they were, the happier she was to do it." Barritt's response was a shout. He went on more quietly, "A red haired maid and a pale fellow with straight black hair don't make a dark-skinned child with curly hair. I may not know much, but anyone with half a brain can figure that out. I just happened to be the richest fellow she could find who fit the right time is all."

"Aye, I'll give you that. We went over that ground when the maid showed up here with her spawn. Showed her the door I did. Told her to find the right man next time, But what about," paper rattled angrily, "this note I've got from the baron's wife?"

"What note?" the question was cautious.

"This one. Let me read part of it to you…

Cydris and Kyminn leaned out the window, listening intently.

 _"…the result of the time spent together, a boy child, now ten years of age."_ There was a grating anger in Hallis's voice. "Ten years, Barritt? How long have you carried on with this woman?! You have a wife!"

"Do not presume to lecture me on that score, Father!" Barritt matched his father, snarl for snarl. "I will not tolerate that from you!"

"And now? Are you still carrying on with her? A baron's wife?" Hallis was equal parts horrified and angry.

"You presume to say I was carrying on with her at all! Mind the barmaid, Father! Is it so surprising that I may be wrongly accused?"

Hallis's voice came up to the silent listeners, thick with scorn. "Oh, aye. My poor son, wrongly accused by so many women! Yet you admit to the barmaid, do you not, if not the child?"

The answer was grudging. "I admit to the maid, Father. I've never denied it. And I defy you to find a healthy young man, far from home who never felt the same temptation, or took advantage of a woman, freely offered."

"I've my doubts she was free," Hallis sneered. "And the baron's wife?"

"I find it odd, Father, that you put so much weight to an accusation from a time ten years gone, a time long before I wed."

"An accusation that surfaces now, and to which you have tied our fortunes!" Somehow, it seemed as this last was the real goad to Hallis's anger.

"It doesn't matter, Father! Whether or not the child is mine is nothing. The contract will cost a pittance in the years to come and gain us the good will of the baron, and that is more than worth the price."

"And is the child yours? Could it be yours?"

Barritt's silence was telling. "I confess there was a few days one spring at about the right time. But I cannot claim the child as mine."

The paper crackled again as Hallis read aloud, " _I have not, nor shall I ever, tell our son the truth. But you have seen him many a time these past ten years and you and I have spoken the truth._

 _I have held to the lie these many years to my husband, your lord baron, that the child is his and this he believes to be true. It is as well for you that my grandfather's name truly was Baret, for in my blush of affection for you I could hold your name with me in our son."_

"She named the child AFTER YOU! And, by some mad grace of the gods, her husband has accepted the lie!" Hallis was roaring with fury now.

"Not me! Her grandfather! She said it herself! Father, it is a lie. I have not had these conversations she speaks of. I have never accepted the child as mine and if it were to turn up at my door, I would send it away."

"You would send it away because your wife would make you. Oh aye, son, I know the bond she made you swear before you wed, the one that turns you out with nothing if you should ever stray from her bed. It's as well for you that the barmaid's whelp is not yours, for you'd have been sleeping cold these many months past! Pah!" Hallis spat his disgust. "More the fool you! I said nothing when you got your wife with child before you wed, for yes, I've no right to cast blame in that regard. But I have stayed true to your mother these many years and will until my dying breath. But I have kept my vows, as you clearly have not."

"Father…" Barritt remonstrated, only to be cut off.

 _"You know my husband will turn the boy and I out, were he to ever learn the truth. These funds I ask are not for me, but for your son, that he may be protected and sustained if the worst were to befall._

 _I know not why the Lady has granted me her blessing, but my husband has accepted that the mark our son bears is the God's own gift. But is as you have seen – our son carries six fingers on each hand – a mark you once told me you carried at your own birth, fingers trimmed when you were just a babe._

 _Our son still carries that mark, for my husband believes it is as I have told him – that the Lady granted his son the fingers that my husband the baron lost when he himself was a young man. I have taken it as a sign from the Lady that my husband has embraced this as he has embraced the child as his own."_

"You would still tell me," Hallis's voice was so low they had to strain to hear it, "that the boy is not yours?"

"Father, it cannot be. Must never be. You must promise me this. I admit it, the contract is to support the boy if the baron were to ever find out. I have done all I could for him. Take it from my share of the business if you would, but if my wife were to find out, she would divorce me and we would lose the income from her father's lands. You and I both would suffer to no end. Is that what you want? To lose half your income because of a bastard child from a time before I ever met my wife? Father," it was reasonable, imploring, "the baron has accepted the boy has his own. The boy is being raised with all advantages that being a baron's son gains. It is unlikely in the extreme that this will change and if it does, well, I've made sure the boy will be taken care of. Making a fuss now will only cause unneeded harm."

Kyminn gestured and they withdrew from the window, quietly closing the shutters on the muted conversation.

"Well." Kyminn sighed and looked at Cydris to see how she was taking the conversation.

"I'm not sure how I feel," she confessed, "Although I'm pretty disappointed in my brother."

"He sounds…fairly sure this 'Barret' is his son." Kyminn suggested.

Cydris nodded. "Extra fingers and toes run in our family. It's a harmless thing. Usually they can be removed without harm either in infancy or at a young age." She threw him a smile. "Don't worry though, our child will probably have the usual number of digits. It only happens if one of the parents is born with it. I'm afraid I was born profoundly normal."

He laughed. "I think you were born extraordinary, and I'm endlessly glad of that!" He swept her into a hug. "Let's pack and put some distance between us and your so-very-interesting family."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The scruffy pony eased up beside the wagon where Kyminn slouched on the bench, Cydris and the children occupied within.

"Our departure a few days ago was a bit sooner than expected, wasn't it Healer?" Zheff Halston, the senior of their scout escorts raised an eyebrow in silent question. As the head of their abbreviated security detail, any change in plans was a concern.

Kyminn shook his head with a wry smile and stretched on the thinly padded bench. "Just…inlaws."

"Ah, I see. 'Cos, me and the lads…" Zheff cast a sly glance at where the other three were fanned out ahead and behind, "are dab hands at making the occasional inconvenient mother-in-law disappear."

Kyminn buried his laughter in a sudden fit of coughing, Zheff solicitously thumping him between the shoulder blades while Kyminn gasped for air.

Cydris poked her head out of the canvas flap, her eyes narrowing for a moment. "Kyminn?"

He waved his hand to brush off her concern, shaking his head in negation as he regained his composure.

"It's nothing missus," Djeff offered, "I think he just swallowed a fly."

This occasioned another round of coughing as Cydris climbed up and onto the bench beside him.

"My mother-in-law is a perfectly lovely person Zheff, thank you," Kyminn offered gravely.

"As you say, then, Healer," Zheff offered a casual salute and nudged his pony on up the track.

"What was that all about?" Cydris looked tired and Kyminn drew her close to rest against him.

"Nothing really. He wanted to know why we left sooner than expected."

"Ah." He felt her sigh. "It's been an interesting time, hasn't it?"

"Are you referring to your family or the last few days?" The question was careful. Although they had left six days ago, they had made less than three days progress. The third night had seen Kyminn and Cydris awakened by a crying Mehrhet, the child having vomited in her bed.

While Kyminn was cleaning up the mess, Cydris was taking the fevered child out to the latrine trench as the child continued to retch. As a result, he was awake when Niyeh started her own round of heaving. Fortunately, he'd been quick enough to mostly extricate her in time. Ansen, at least, was old enough to wake before things erupted and got himself outside without assistance.

The next day and a half had been a miserable round of heaving, crying children, Kyminn supporting one daughter or the other over the latrine trench while her little body emptied itself from both ends, his own body racked with chills as his stomach roiled within.

There was little enough the Healers could do. They made up anti-emetics and encouraged the children to drink plenty of fluids. By the time Cydris and Kyminn fell victim, the children were starting to recover. The scouts, who had taken over all the chores thus far, added childcare to their duties while their parents were incapacitated.

By the third day, the children had bounced back and their parents were staggering weakly about, making sure the animals were tended and sketchy meals prepared. The scouts were, to a man, huddled over the trench, taking their own turns at gastrointestinal misery.

At least the virus had been short-lived, passing through each victim in little more than a day. While their guardians were sleeping off the effects, Kyminn and Cydris spent an entire day doing laundry, the children having soiled nearly every piece of bedding and a good deal of their clothing.

Privately, in a place Kyminn had no intention of mentioning to his wife, he'd initially wondered if Cissi had slipped something into their food. It had actually been a relief when the scouts fell victim too, for they'd been staying at the inn, eating from common dishes. The likelihood of Cissi attacking them as well as his family seemed remote.

Cydris's response brought him back to the conversation at hand. "Both, I suppose." She was quiet for a moment and he felt her sigh again. "Kyminn, would you think me very terrible if I were t tell you that at first I thought maybe my family had done something to make us sick?"

"No, love, I don't think you're terrible." It was his turn to sigh. "It occurred to me too. I don't think it's anything against your family, I just think it's because there's an enemy out there and we see him everywhere."

They rode in silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts. The bout of stomach flu wasn't a danger to the pregnancy, but the additional drain on her body had left Cydris a little slower to recover. She was actually nearly asleep, curled up against Kyminn, when the barking and growling startled them both.

"What the….?" Kyminn drew the wagon up, the horses flicking their ears in surprise at the sudden halt. "Are the dogs…fighting?"

He passed the reins to Cydris and leapt out, long practice letting him keep the weight on his stronger leg. As he did so, he reached out with his Gift, trying to find the source of the problem.

'The problem', as it turned out, was Raff. She stood off to one side, watching the males scuffle. Kyminn waded in with voice and Gift, separating the two snarling combatants.

"What is it?" Cydris had tied off the horses and made her own way over.

From the look on Kyminn's face, it was clear he wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, scream or a combination of all three. "Check out Raff. Use your Gift."

She threw him a puzzled glance but complied. "Why…oh! Oh no!"

"Oh no indeed." Kyminn looked down at Tip and Bull. Separated and held firmly in check with Kyminn's Gift, the males were each looking rather, well, had they been human, Cydris would have said they looked smug.

"She must have started to go into season when we were sick. I completely missed it." He ground his teeth in frustration. "Until now, I just…shortcut…the process and it's as though it never happens. This time though…"

Cydris sighed. "This time it's quite too late. And now the boys are going to be fighting over her for the next couple of sennights."

"Oh no they won't," Kyminn promised. " _That_ I can do something about. I'll just temporarily block a gland or two. It will take a few days before things settle down, but we can manage."

He sighed. "Puppies. Really?"

 _SCENE BREAK_

Surely and steadily, they wended their way north and west. They made a point of stopping, even if only briefly, at every Healer and Guard station on their route.

Their questions of the Healers were always the same – general news and gossip and a casual question about any likely candidates for the College. Most Healers posted to small villages were fairly social folks; it went with the territory. Those personalities not suitable for life under the lens of village life were generally shunted into other areas of Healing. Most found useful careers in research, management of a healing hall or an arcane specialty where it didn't matter if your conversational skills would have done credit to a rock. Bit by bit, Kyminn built up a picture of the players and personalities he was interested in. In small increments, patterns began to emerge.

At each Guard station, they would present their credentials to the station commander and more often and not, there would be messages waiting. These would be exchanged for Kyminn and Cydris's most recent findings and the process would repeat.

"Cydris, can you find those notes on that teamster clan that was operating between Highjourne, Deercreek and Briary Holding?"

She leafed through the folder and extracted them. He took them with a smile of thanks and flipped through the pages.

"Here it is. Remember when we sent this off we asked Tannel if he could find out if the Heralds knew anything about copper shipments? You thought the teamsters were getting an odd rate for their carriage of the ore."

She took it back and skimmed it. "I remember. The math seemed odd. It calculated out correctly, and the rates seemed to be reasonable." A wry grimace. "I remember wading through mining guild records to see what the going rate for copper should be. But the numbers still seemed off and I couldn't put my finger on it."

"You have good instincts. The Heralds looked into the firm and its parent company. Turns out its owned by a consortium of _other_ firms. All very legal and all very tangled. Definitely Herald and magistrate stuff to sort out. But…" Kyminn waved a page from the most recent report from Haven, "What they found was some odd payments. They are spread throughout various firms, but they are all accounted to 'market development' and they are all amounts found in the teamster's books. Or at least, a version of them."

He shook his head. "If I ever find the clerk who noticed this, I'll buy him – or her – the best dinner in Haven. Look. Do you see it? It took me a while but once I knew, it jumped right out at me."

Cydris took both pages. "I hate it when you get all clever and mysterious." But she examined them both carefully. Then she went back and looked at them again. Finally, she looked up. "I'm sorry, but I'm still not seeing it."

Kyminn took a scrap piece of paper and wrote down one of the questionable payments. Then he subtracted out the cost of the ore, leaving only the drayage and labour fees. Then he divided that figure in half. He looked up at his wife, head cocked expectantly.

"Why does that number look familiar?" She took the pencil from his hand doodled for a moment. Eventually, thoughtfully, she added dashes, breaking the number apart. 3-5-68. "It's a date…" she breathed.

He nodded. "Indeed. And furthermore…"

She cut him off, "It's right about the time one of the prospective Healers disappeared."

"Exactly. Tannel says they went through all the odd payments from the 'business development' account. ALL of the have a date buried in them and about a third of those correspond to our known disappearances."

She shook her head. "I'm not sure which I find more unsettling – that we've only found a third of what they're doing or that someone saw this pattern in all these figures!"

Kyminn took up the letter from their Dean. "Tannel says there's a fellow in the accountancy office that is absolutely amazing with numbers. He's apparently quite reclusive and has some pretty serious limitations in other areas, but he's extraordinarily gifted in this sort of thing. Tannel says the fellow finds mathematical patterns the way other people notice the sky has stars. The Masters of the Blues consider him a national treasure." He passed the page over. "Anyway, he's the person who found it. Finally! Something solid! Tannel adds that the Heralds have the bit between their teeth on this and have started a very quiet, very _thorough_ investigation."

"That's…good to know. We've always known that we were playing a very small part in this." She looked up from the pages. "So. Day after tomorrow we get to Forst Reach. How do you feel about that?"

He looked wistful. "I admit I'm going to miss Hugo. He's a fine animal and he's been around for years. As for the rest…mostly I'm nervous about our reception. I've seen a range of behaviour from nobles from the very gracious to the appalling. I really don't want to have to put up with appalling."

She laughed the burbling chortle that he loved. "Well, I'm glad that your standards are so reasonable. Here's to hoping things are 'not appalling'!"


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

As the miles rolled by on their final approach to Forst Reach, Kyminn looked up from the sock he was mending as Cydris steered the ambling team. "You know, I was thinking," he said conversationally.

She didn't lift her eyes from the road ahead as she shook her head in mock sorrow. "My dear, I've warned you about that, now haven't I? You should always listen to your Healer, you know."

A grin. "Yes, so you've mentioned. Anyway…" he glanced down the road, more from habit than any real concern, "it occurred to me that if someone were to write a tale based strictly on things like us all getting the flu, or Niyeh's spontaneous frog collection, they'd think we spend our lives lurching from one crisis to the next. I'm quite sure they'd think us rather bizarre and chaotic!"

She laughed with him. "Whereas the truth is really that we're mostly dull. But then, who would want to read a story where the characters mostly drove around, got dusty, and did laundry? Most days, the most exciting thing that happens is reading to the children around the fire!" Her look was sardonic, "The Bard who told that tale would go very hungry indeed!"

He glanced at the rolling woodland that surrounded them. "So…about two candlemarks, do you think?"

"Yes, Kyminn. Same as when you asked a few minutes ago. You're not afraid Hugo will get dirty, are you?"

Her husband looked chagrinned. He'd had them pull over for a late lunch and insisted on giving a Hugo a bath (courtesy of a wide, shallow stream) and then groomed, polished and trimmed the stallion as though they were going to the King's Horse Fair. Kyminn and Ansen had spent the last several evenings polishing Hugo's tack until it was as supple and shiny as they could manage. They hadn't been able to buff out all the scars and nicks, but Kyminn rather thought they suited Hugo's story.

Ansen had thoroughly attached himself to his adopted father and was showing a deep interest in horses. He had gotten off to a good start in working with them over the past many moons and Kyminn thought the boy would make a good horse-leech if he stuck with it. It was hard to tell at this point if it was a genuine interest or simply because Kyminn was doing it. Kyminn didn't mind – he enjoyed it as much as his son did and Kyminn was prepared to let time decide the matter.

"No, but…" Kyminn started to explain...

"I know. You want to stop just short of the keep and give him a last going over. So you've told me. Repeatedly."

"I'm sorry love. Partly it's that he and I have been through a lot together and I don't want Lord Ashkevron turning up his nose just because Hugo's no longer perfect. Plus, we're being well paid to deliver him and I want to perform creditably!"

Privately, Cydris wondered if her husband maybe didn't see a reflection of his own scars in the horse's marred hide, but she said nothing. She knew a part of Kyminn was still adjusting to the stares his scarred face and limp gathered. At home at the Collegium, and among the Guard, his injuries passed unnoticed. Out in the countryside, even she had noticed the sideways glances directed at him. It was less so when he wore his Greens – no one really cared to get on a Healer's bad side, after all – but she found herself irritated on his behalf at some of the responses.

"I know you do, love, and you have. And to add to your comment on this being some bard's tale – if that were the case, some new crisis would come galloping around the corner any moment now!" She paused and dramatically cupped her ear as though listening for approaching hoof beats.

"Nothing but us and birds I'm afraid," she grinned at him. "No dramatic story here!"

Her lightness drew him out of his threatening funk and he laughed along with her. "Point taken, dear!"

It was a startled exchange of looks and raised eyebrows a candlemark later though, when they did actually hear hoof beats approaching. Several of them, in fact.

"Kyminn?" Cydris glanced around the wood line and unconsciously reached for her bow. She drew the wagon to a halt, as Kyminn stilled, reaching inwards. After a moment, he shrugged and looked at her.

"Five riders, coming at a decent pace but not frantic. Trying to make good time rather than rushing I'd say. Nothing else in the area."

"I see." She tucked the canvas back over the bow but left the flap untied, just in case. Healers were cautious folk, and veterans of the Tedrel wars even more so.

The four scout bodyguards fanned out – one covering their rear and two peeling off into the woods on either side. Either they hadn't heard Kyminn's report or they weren't taking any chances. Zheff nudged his beast into a canter and set himself astride the roadway well in advance of the halted wagon.

The gentle bends of the road made it hard to see tremendously far ahead, but the wagon-folk were easily able to make out the five mounted men who rounded the curve pulling up when they encountered Zheff.

The riders were well equipped and well mounted, their matching livery arguing for them being retainers rather than raiders. Kyminn and the others couldn't hear the exchange, but the abruptly relaxed set of Zheff's shoulders and his deferential tug of his forelock were ample identification.

"I believe," Kyminn said, straightening on the bench, "that we have a welcoming party."

"Let's hope it's a welcome," Cydris murmured, but she gave the reins a flick for the horses to walk on.

Four of the riders remained with Zheff but one broke away from the group, pushing his gelding into a smooth trot that Kyminn found himself admiring.

"The Healers Danner, I believe?" The rider was in his early twenties, stocky and plain featured, his muscled body and calloused hands attesting to a working man's lifestyle. At their nods, he went on. "My name is Leithen Ashkevron, second son to Lord Caridoc. Father sent me out to meet you."

Kyminn didn't try to hide the surprise. "That's very kind of Lord Caridoc. May I assume he didn't send you all this way just to bring his greetings?"

"You assume correctly," Leithen turned his horse so he could keep pace beside the wagon. At the young Lord's nodded request, Cydris twitched the horses back into their regular, steady motion.

"Father wanted me to meet you and let you know what you're coming into. I'm afraid you're going to find yourselves busy when you arrive."

The two Healers exchanged started glances. Kyminn gave the horses a mental nudge and increased their pace. "My lord?" Kyminn started calculating logistics – which of the horses he and Cydris should take and who should drive the wagon. And what to tell the children…

Leithen shook his head. "We'd rather you didn't delay, but our Healer says you don't need to come at the gallop." The young noble paused, obviously ordering his thoughts. "I suppose you've probably heard of my rather famous ancestor, the Herald?"

Startled glances, then Kyminn offered "Yes, we've heard of Herald Vanyel. What has that got to do with you needing us?"

"Nothing – or not much. I only brought him up as a sort of historical placeholder – a bookmark, if you will. You see, well before Vanyel's time, some of our ancestors went on building sprees – expanding the keep, adding new buildings, moving walls about and so forth.

"This went on for a couple of generations before Vanyel, and for several generations after. The construction ended about 500 years ago." He said this casually, as though it were normal for someone to speak of their home as being several centuries old. Kyminn reflected that if your last name as Ashkevron, it no doubt was.

"For the next hundred years or so, the keep more or less languished with just routine maintenance but no major construction. Finally, though, one of my g-g-g-g-great grandfathers got fed up and started a renovation program. He enlisted his son and grandsons and swore them to the plan. They settled on an architectural plan and started rebuilding. They started with the oldest parts first and began fixing roofs, moving walls, and generally putting an end to stairwells that go nowhere. Did you know," and Leithen's voice was conversational, "That there's a room no one can find? We've put lights in every room in that floor and there's one window that's always dark. No one knows where the door is or what's in there. It's very strange, really."

Leithen shook himself went on, briskly, "At any rate, it's been a very, very long-term project. Partly because of the cost and partly because they had several centuries of mess to sort out. Every time they tackle a new section, no one knows what they're going to find. Which brings us to you. Four days ago, the workmen removed an interior wall. They'd detached it from all the adjoining walls and it was assuredly not load-bearing. We're not sure what happened, but a wall in the next chamber collapsed. It in turn cracked the foundation of a small tower and tore open some interior rooms. A good number of people were injured and one of the masons was killed."

"I see." Cydris nodded. "The patients are stable?"

"They are, Healer. Our Healer said to be sure to tell you that. He also says there are a lot of crushed and broken bones that he would very much like your help with. He said," and Leithen looked at the two in the wagon, "that he knows you haven't got time to stay for a lot of bone-healing, but he needs your help setting some of the worst fractures and getting the bone-healing started."

"You of course have our help," Kyminn said. "And we can move faster than this if you need us to!"

Leithen hesitated. "While our Healer said it wasn't urgent…"

"Things can change at any second when people are seriously injured," Cydris pointed out, "And if your Healer has been doing this on his own for the past four days, he may need our help more badly than he realizes."

"I'm glad you agree," the young lord was frankly relieved. "I was willing to beg, but not foolish enough to think I could compel a Healer…"

"But you need us. And sooner rather than later. Kym?" Cydris looked over at her husband, knowing he'd probably worked out a plan long since.

"Lord Leithen…Healer Cydris is pregnant and I admit I'm reluctant to see her throw herself on horseback and tear off at a gallop." His glance at his wife was clouded with worry. Reluctantly, she nodded, acknowledging the risk.

"To be honest, m'lord, the fastest – and smoothest gaited – animal we have here belongs to you." Kyminn gestured at Hugo, the massive beast pacing easily behind the wagon. "I have a Gift that will help Hugo carry us as smoothly as he may under these conditions. Have we your leave to use him?"

Leithen blinked, startled. "My leave and welcome to him! And I'll stand for you if any should object! I know Father won't, not for this." Leithen was already gesturing, signalling to his other retainers. Two spurred their animals into a gallop and disappeared up the road.

"We hoped we'd meet you in time," Leithen explained. "They won't be much ahead of us, but it's the best we can do."

It took surprisingly little time to change Hugo's lead line and cover for saddle and bridle. One of the scouts took charge of the wagon and the surprised children simply nodded their acquiescence when told why their parents where disappearing.

Kyminn placed Cydris in the saddle where she would have the surest seat. He took pillion, confident he could keep Hugo from any movement that would cause a tumble. As Hugo set off at a ground-eating canter, Kyminn concentrated on keeping the animal's movement steady beneath them, his hands wrapped securely around his wife and unborn child.

"You did want to make an entrance with Hugo!" the wind tried to whip Cydris's words away from her.

"Remind me to tell the gods to stop giving me what I ask for!" was his only response.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N I took a day for myself._

Chapter 25

Hugo's iron shoes were still clattering on the cobblestones as Cydris swung her leg over his neck and slid down to the ground. She was already digging around in a pocket for one of the many little thongs she carried to tie her hair back while working.

"Go," Kyminn urged, "If there's anything urgent, you're the best suited to handle it. I'll be along just as soon as I make sure Hugo's not likely to flatten anyone."

Cydris didn't reply, her distracted air telling Kyminn she was already thinning her shields, looking for bodies in crisis. She set off at a determined walk, diverted only by a firm but deferential retainer who, if his gestures were any indication, would show her the quickest path to her patients.

Kyminn's own dismounting was slower, but no less practiced, stiff knee notwithstanding. One hand kept a firm grip on the fractious stallion's reins while the other, resting on Hugo's neck, exerted another form of control.

A groom, moving with haste but at the same time in a way that said clearly that this person knew how best to _hurry_ around horses, drew himself up before the just-dismounted guest. Whether it was Kyminn's headshake of warning or the horse's backwards ear-flicks and sudden drawing up of haunches, the man stopped, well out of striking range, and offered a cautious nod.

Kyminn shook his head, but kept his words polite. "I'd like to speak to your master of horse please. This fellow," an affectionate pat to the sweating neck, "hasn't a mean bone in his body, but he still a very particular fellow and needs some rather particular handling."

Somewhat to Kyminn's surprise, the groom didn't argue. He simply nodded and departed, his smooth haste moving him through the crowd of horses in the courtyard without so much as a twitched ear.

It didn't take long for the master of horse to appear. He was whippet-thin but had an air of granite stability that suggested he'd wrestled more than one recalcitrant charge over the years. Unsurprisingly, he walked with the rolling gait that bespoke a lifetime in the saddle.

As his eyes set on Hugo, his expression changed to something almost like avarice and he shook his head in wonder. "Cor! I'd forgotten how fine a beast he is!" The man paced slowly around Hugo, well back and slow enough that the stallion could curve his neck to follow the movement. As he cataloged the scars along flank, legs, belly and elsewhere, he shook his head sadly.

"Oh Hugo, my fine boy. You've had a time of it, haven't you my lad?" He spoke half to himself, half to the horse, with no regard for what any onlookers might think. Kyminn realized that the look in the man's face hadn't been avarice, but genuine pleasure at the stallion's return.

The circuit completed, the man fetched up before horse and Healer, and he acknowledged Kyminn for the first time. "He's been sore wounded." It was a statement of fact, not an accusation.

A slow nod. "He was. He's a fine, fine spirit is this one, one of the best I've ever known. His scars," a soft stroke of the neck, "Are not all on the outside I'm afraid."

"Aye, I can see that. He was allus spirited, Hugo was, but there's an edge to him now that wasn't there before. Not anger, I think, but close."

Kyminn felt his eyebrows climb in surprise but tried to school his expression to neutrality. What the man had described _could_ have been the observation of a man with a lifetime of experience in reading horses and a knowledge of each that predated their foaling. It was also precisely what his own Animal Empathy told him about Hugo's personality.

"Aye," Kyminn found himself slipping into the casual speech of the horseman. "That's true enough. It's like a man burned and scarred by fire. Ever after, he's wary of its heat even as it warms his home. Hugo was a splendid warrior, but he's more cautious now about letting folks get close by him."

A nod. "I can see that. And with his bad eye, he's even more chancy."

"Indeed. He has some sight in it though – you just need to take care and give him time. As well, he needs to know this isn't a battle."

"Aye. M'Lord didn't want to let him go a'tall at first. We've plenty of beasts we could have given the King and still done honor to the Keep in so doing. Hugo was to be one of the anchors to our line of blacks. But M'Lady asked and the Lord was loath to send his only sister to war on less than the best he could provide, so off they went." The man's voice grew gruff, "It was a happy day when we learnt they'd both be returning home."

"As it should. I had the pleasure of knowing Captain…" Kyminn began.

"Major," the man interjected, drawing up with pride.

A wide smile and nod of acknowledgement at the correction, then, " _Major_ Ashkevron and working with her for some time. If she and Hugo are examples of what comes out of Forst Reach, I'd say you've plenty of reason to be proud!"

A grunt and the man nodded. "Nah then. I'll take this fellow and let you be on your way sir." The man put his hand over Kyminn's on the reins and gave the faintest of tugs. Hugo paused, flicked his ears in consideration, then with a snort and relaxed droop of his head, acquiesced.

"My word," Kyminn muttered as he watched the stallion follow the groom, alert and calm, "How amazing to see a true master of his craft at work."

Kyminn turned himself and caught the eye of the servant waiting just out of earshot. At Kyminn's look of inquiry, the man nodded. "I'm to take you straight to the infirmary, Healer. The gear you brought has gone with the lady Healer."

The 'infirmary' was actually a series of rooms in the guest wing. Like most places outside of a formal Healing Temple or Hall, having multiple beds or rooms set aside for major catastrophe or illness would be considered an outrageous waste of space and resources. Either the Healer came to the patient or the patient came for treatment and then returned home to recover. When crises happened, people rearranged things and made do, which was why a rather nice suite of rooms now held seven badly injured people on various makeshift beds and pallets. Even as Kyminn entered, a team of servants were gently moving someone from the floor to a hastily constructed bed, the wood still raw from saw cuts.

Cydris was near one of the windows, deep in discussion with a wan looking man in rumpled Greens. Judging by the lines of exhaustion on his brow, they had done right to hurry.

"Kym? I need you over here please." Cydris's Gift was already reaching out to his, drawing from his strength.

"Please, Healer Gaige, sit down. Join the link and observe if you think you must, but you haven't an erg of energy to spare!"

"I'll watch, but I won't do more. I promise." The Healer's voice was thick with fatigue. "I just want to show you what I've done so far…" He slid gratefully into a chair but his eyes never left the too-still man before them.

Kyminn settled in beside his wife, blinking a bit in surprise at the stool that appeared behind him as he prepared to kneel beside the bed. He opened himself, offering her what she needed.

It was always a wonder to him when he did this and a part of him was ever curious to know if those that watched him felt the same way. He could feel his strength trickling away, could 'see' it transmuted into…something…within the patient. It was, he thought, like watching a play through thick and bubbled ice – cloudy and indistinct. He couldn't sense the life before him, only his own energy, changed in a way he couldn't perceive.

"Kym, wash up," Cydris's voice was distant. "Gaige has managed to keep the swelling of the brain under control, but you need to shift the fractured skull plate so I can start it binding. It's still putting pressure on his brain."

The other Healer must have signaled a servant, for a basin of hot water, redolent with cleansing herbs, appeared at his elbow. Kyminn took the proffered soap, nodding in absent approval at its clean scent as he scrubbed his hands vigourously. Twice he washed his hands, letting the breeze dry them as he shifted around to the end of the bed.

The wound was an ugly one – a deep depression above and behind one ear. Someone had already shorn the man's hair to expose the gash and – no doubt to accommodate the necessary bandages – had shaved the rest of the man's head as well. Assuming the fellow survived, it would be some time before he needed the services of a barber.

"I managed to keep the swelling more or less under control," Gaige's voice had the distant tone of someone immersed in his Gifts. "But with so many injuries, I couldn't resolve all the bleeding so I had to set up a shunt…"

"I see. Well done." There was real respect in Cydris's voice. "We didn't happen on that trick until the second year of the war."

"That's what gave me the idea. We had several Healers come through on reassignment and it came up while we were talking shop…"

It took just under a candlemark, time flickering by as the candle marked the moments, before they withdrew from their meld, the patient breathing the slow, deep measures of a Healing sleep.

"I'm…cautiously optimistic," Cydris stated. "Head injuries are tricky and he may never be fully the same, but I'm hopeful he'll have a full and able life ahead of him yet."

"Thank you both," their host Healer spoke with weary satisfaction. "There's one more urgent case and then, if you don't mind, I'll rest."

"We can take it from here, if you'd like," Kyminn offered.

A slow headshake. "I'd like to present this next one if it's alright. I'm hoping you can…well, I'm just hoping I guess." The healer hauled himself out of the chair and indicated another patient.

This man was awake, his face lax with the effect of poppy. He was covered in dark bruises, but the real injury was to his right arm. Even under the bandages and splint, it was clear from the shape that the arm had been severely damaged.

Cydris dropped into her Gift, probing and observing. A gentle touch to the forehead and the man slipped into slumber. Kyminn raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't want him to hear this next part. I'm afraid that its not good news." She turned to the resident Healer. "Healer Ledsell," it was formal, Healer to Healer, "what is your treatment plan for this patient?"

Gaige Ledsell looked even more weary than before. "The arm bones are…well, as you see, smashed is the best word I can think of to describe them. I aligned them as best I could, but I couldn't Heal them much more than to bind them. The slightest movement and they shift again."

He looked at Kyminn and Cydris. "It was my intention to take the arm, but when I heard you were only a day or two away, I waited. I was hoping you'd see an alternative." He gestured to the bed, "This man is a stonemason and if he loses the arm, he loses his livelihood. Worse yet, the man who was killed was his brother. This fellow is now the sole provider for two families. My Lord Caridoc is generous and the widow will get the full death benefit and a good bit more, but its not enough to make up for the loss. I hate to see a family lose so much if there's any chance they don't have to."

Kyminn looked over at his wife. "Can we pin the bones?"

Cydris shook her head. "No, they're too badly smashed. Some are no more the chips." She paused, "If he keeps the arm, we'll have to remove quite a few of those smallest pieces."

"Which means surgery. What are you thinking?" Not for the first time, Kyminn wished he could see the damage the way his wife could.

"I'm thinking of your knee, actually." Cydris indicated his weak and twisted leg. "We had to remove several pieces of bone and reshape things quite a bit. I'm thinking we _may_ be able to do the same thing here. It will mean he will always be weaker in that arm – we'll have to move quite a bit of muscle. But he should be able to hold a trowel, or a chisel. He'll have to wield the hammer with his off hand, but he should manage." A headshake, "That's _if_ it works. There's a frightful amount of damage."

Gaige nodded, "I know. And if you hadn't come, I'd have taken the arm – there isn't enough bone healing strength in the district to undertake that kind of repair."

It might have surprised an outsider, but the treatment they undertook used far more of Kyminn's talents than those of the other two. It took the remainder of the afternoon and Gaige gave into exhaustion before they were finished. As Kyminn tightened the last pin and braced the now-straight limb, he looked over at his wife. "Well?"

"It went better than I thought it would," she admitted. "I think though that we'll have to spend a few days here to see to some bone healing if this is to have any kind of success." A wry shrug. "It may be colder than we thought before we get to Oakden."

"So be it." Kyminn looked at where Gaige had been settled on a pallet by a pair of servants. Judging by the smoothness of the transition, this was a service they'd performed for the Healer a few times over the past days. Kyminn rolled his shoulders to unkink cramped muscles and surveyed the remaining beds. "I guess we still have a lot of work ahead of us."

Fortunately, the rest of the injuries relatively straightforward. All had either multiple fractures of a limb or more than one limb was injured. None was in any danger, but all faced long and difficult recoveries and a winter of immobility.

Cydris turned to one of the servants who had been assisting and gestured to the resting patients. "Now what?"

A polite cough and the servant gave a nod. "Milady, we've been told to remain here and fetch yourself or the other Healer at need. Healer Gaige has taught us what to watch for and when to alert him. If it's alright, may we call on you first? Healer Gaige…"

"Needs about a sennight's worth of sleep," Cydris interjected. "Yes, of course call us first. Umm…I suppose our things are around here somewhere…"

"Not to mention our children," Kyminn added drily.

"Well sir, milady, as to that…you're wanted in the courtyard please." The servant looked distinctly uneasy.

"What…?" something about the servant's expression filled Kyminn with parental foreboding.

The quick headshake did little to reassure. "Nothing, milord. I'm sure an explanation will set everything right."

The pair of Healers glanced at each other and then at the fading light outside. "I thought they'd be alright with Zheff and the others – they're hardly strangers after all." Cydris was gnawing her cheek, a sure sign of uncertainty. Kyminn wondered if she was aware of the habit.

He offered a huff of agreement as they followed the servant back through the keep. "I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't think of them. We were so focused…".

A pensive nod. "I can't believe we just abandoned them to their own devices for so long," she whispered guiltily, for his ears only.

"We didn't. We left them in Zheff's care," Kyminn reminded her, although his tone betrayed his own unease.

The courtyard was surprisingly well lit, a fact explained by the fact that a travel wagon – _their_ travel wagon, to be precise – was parked squarely in the middle of it. The horses had been unhitched and, presumably, appropriately stabled, but the wagon itself squatted in the courtyard, an odd accoutrement to the stone keep.

"DA!" Ansen's shout was explosive, but the boy didn't budge from his perch on the wagon seat. At the yell, two small heads popped out of the canvas and two small forms scrambled out to join him on the bench. All three were practically aquiver, but no buttocks left the bench.

As soon as they got close enough, Kyminn and Cydris found themselves flooded in a gabble of Tedrel-pidgin, Karsite and Valdemaran from three separate sources. It took some time before they managed to make sense of it all, but the fundamental matter was simple enough – in the absence of the adults, the children had unanimously decided that the rule "Stay with the wagon" applied. Their use of the Tedrel pidgin, a dialect the children had been working hard to eliminate as they embraced their new lives, spoke of the depth of the children's worry.

Once again, Kyminn was reminded that these were not normal children. They had been raised in barbarism and only the strange children's cult had saved them from being essentially feral. For them, to abandon their possessions in the presence of strange adults was unthinkable. So, they had stayed. Kyminn had no doubt the children would have still been on the wagon in the morning, had it taken so long.

As they hugged and reassured each child in turn, the adults looked at each other, matching guilt and dismay writ on their faces.

"We must never," Cydris said fiercely, "take them for granted." She meant more than that, but Kyminn understood.

With Niyeh in one arm (and since when had she got so heavy?) and Ansen with a death-grip on his other hand, Kyminn finally had enough presence of mind to wonder what they were supposed to do next.

Leithen Ashkevron answered that question for him as the young lord stepped out from the waiting group of servants and made himself known. "I came out to help manage this situation. We thought it would probably sort itself out as soon as you were able to see to it." A grimace. "There certainly didn't seem to be a need to forcibly remove them."

"Milord, I…" Kyminn started to apologize but stopped at Leithen's headshake.

"Never mind. It did no harm and you Healers went out of your way to assist us. I imagine there's probably a very interesting reason for their behaviour and my father may well want to hear about it, but that can wait.

"In the meantime, my lord father sends his respects. He is, I would guess, where he usually is this time of day and in the infirmary with the injured. As you've also missed the usual dinner hour, he's instructed you're to be served in your quarters." Leithen paused, then added, "I hope you don't take it amiss. Father thought you'd be too tired for 'formal folderol' as he likes to put it and arranged things so that your official greetings can wait until morning. He says he wants to see you after breakfast – and after you've had a chance to check on his people."

"Your father," Cydris said gratefully, "Is a thoughtful and generous man. Please thank him for us."

Late that night, Kyminn was unsurprised when the girls crawled into bed with them, something they hadn't done for some time. It was a measure of their need for reassurance and a reminder of just how fragile his remarkable children were.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

As he worked his way through the generous breakfast that the servants had brought, Kyminn found himself chewing on something quite a bit less palatable – his uncertain standing with the Lord of Forst Reach.

Common born though he was, Kyminn had, by virtue of his position as a Healer and, later, as an agent of the crown, gotten accustomed to dealing with the higher born. To be sure, his position in any encounter varied greatly based on Kyminn's task and the personalities involved, but generally speaking, Kyminn was used to being received with a status somewhere between 'highly esteemed servant/professional' to 'barely tolerated pest'.

Those, he understood. One was respect for his training and role, the other a measure of someone else's prejudice and disgruntlement with the crown. He knew how to handle those. Today's encounter though, this would be something different. He'd never assumed the role of 'parent of wayward child' when dealing with the nobility and he wasn't sure what to expect. For that matter, he wasn't sure if he should be defensive or apologetic. On top of that, he had absolutely no idea what to do with the children during the visit. It had simply never occurred to him.

"We'll take them with us." Cydris's voice was calm and unconcerned.

"What?" Kyminn swallowed a lump of toast, his expression one of confusion. They'd been married less than a year and Cydris seemed to have already mastered the spousal skill of parsing his thoughts.

"I said," his wife repeated patiently, "That we'll take the children with us. It's not like they haven't seen injured people before. They were astonishingly helpful at the Healer's tent."

"Yes, but that was profoundly different!" Kyminn was trying to imagine the Lord's reaction to a child assisting with the care of the injured.

She snorted. "I didn't say I planned to put them to work, did I? I meant simply that they will be fine with us while we work. I'm sure we can figure something out for them to do, or a way for one of us to stay with them while the other sees to our business here."

"Um." Kyminn finally shrugged in acquiescence. Apparently, he still had a lot to learn about the process of being a parent.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Unsurprisingly, the children were quite happy to accompany their parents to the infirmary. Kyminn saw more than one servant raise an eyebrow and school their face to blandness when the children arrived, but stiff shoulders soon relaxed when the children moved silently and carefully amongst the beds, tugging blankets straight and folding anything in sight – including dirty linens. One servant produced a game of matching cards and symbols which kept the three occupied for much longer than one would have expected.

Cydris sat back and released a last, cleansing breath. She glanced at her husband and nodded at his unspoken query. "Our mason's fractures are remaining stable. I think we've drawn down enough of your strength for now and his body needs to rest between healings. I'll come back in the afternoon and Gaige and I will have another go."

She glanced around the room with an expression of quiet satisfaction. "I think we're doing well. There's a lot of recovery left, but I'm optimistic for all of them."

"Uncle M'Lord will be pleased to hear that, my lady," the voice was quiet, pitched so as not to startle.

Kyminn turned towards the speaker, a youngster in his early teens and, by his dress and features, an Ashkevron.

"Varick Ashkevron, Healers," the half bow was well done and not stinted. "I am one of the cousins."

"Judging by your expression, I take it there are quite a few of you?" Kyminn's mouth quirked.

Varick's smile was rueful. "There's a local saying Healers, that Forst Reach produces horses, sheep and Ashkevrons. Our family has been producing cousins by job lots for quite a few generations now. Uncle M'Lord is one of six sibs and I'm one of five – so far."

Kyminn perched a hip on a nearby table and cocked his head. "Based on that, I'd expect the place to be flooded. What do they do with all of you?"

Dark eyes twinkled and Varick grinned outright. "Export us, mostly. A lot of us wind up in the Guard, which suits us down to the ground. Every few generations, we produce a Herald or two and that keeps tongues wagging for a good while. As for the rest," a shrug. "The women that don't go into the Guard usually marry decently and it's amazing how many households will take you on in the stables if your last name is Ashkevron and you've a reference from Uncle Caridoc."

"I see. And what about you, cousin Varick. Where do you propose to end up?" Kyminn's question was bemused.

"I was thinking the Guard, but with the war ended – thank the gods! – there may not be so much of a need. Now I'm considering personal armsman or something similar. Uncle M'Lord has a good weapons-master and I've been assured I'll leave with a good mount when I come of age, so…" the lad shrugged again.

"In any case, Healers," Varick gestured to where the children were still engrossed in their game, "I've been sent to ask if you had plans for the children while you were here."

Kyminn blinked. "What were you thinking?"

"Well sir, m'lady, the littles – the girls – Leithen thought they might want to go with the nurses. I know they're a bit big for nursemaids, but there aren't any _little_ littles right now and there are several children of a similar age to your daughters. We won't have very many warm days like this before winter sets in and I believe they were planning on taking the little ones into the garden for a bit. As for the lad – I was wondering if he might be interested in going fishing with some of the other lads and I?"

Kyminn hesitated. Not only had Ansen never (to Kyminn's knowledge) gone fishing, Kyminn had visions of another Shasta tormenting his son.

"Our son, as you can probably tell, joined our family only recently." Cydris was gentle. "He's never gone fishing. You'd have to be very patient with him."

"Really? Never?" Varick was clearly surprised, then gave a nod of understanding. "I think it would be fun to show him then. As for patient…the cousins that are going are all likely to be understanding." The boy paused, clearly trying to find a way to preserve both tact and family confidences. "There are a couple of cousins who are…less patient…and…not always good company, but they won't be joining us. They are otherwise occupied."

Even as newly-fledged parents, both Kyminn and Cydris knew a stall when they heard one. They simply settled in, throwing a cloak of expectant silence over the conversation until Varick gave in.

"They dumped pails of cattle dung all over the milkmaid, just after she'd finished scrubbing and boiling the milk pails." Varick didn't bother to disguise his disdain at the nature of the prank. "She had to scour and boil them twice more _and_ have Healer Gaige check them. Uncle M'Lord was _not_ happy." The lad perked up a bit. "The cousins are spending the next sennight cleaning the milking barn. And _not_ just shoveling it out. They are scrubbing every byre and bit of floor with hot water and soap – to the milkmaid's satisfaction. Given that the barn is still in use two times a day and the milkmaid has _very_ strict notions of what constitutes 'clean'…well, those cousins won't be going fishing with us today."

Kyminn didn't hide a satisfied smile at the punishment. Poorly cleaned dairy equipment could cause dreadful – and deadly – sicknesses. Kyminn was quite certain that those two boys would have a lifelong understanding of the necessary hygiene standards.

"Thank you Varick, your plans are well thought out and we appreciate you and Lord Caridoc for thinking of our children. I'm sure your Lord Uncle has much greater matters to deal with than a few stray children!" Cydris smiled warmly.

"Healers, the whole household is very grateful to you and Healer Gaige. Uncle Caridoc especially. Tell me," the youngster hesitated, "If it's all right for you to tell me, that is…is it true that Gaven is going to be alright? His legs will heal?"

The Healers shared a glance and Cydris spoke for them. "Gaven has badly broken his legs, that's true. He also has a number of other injuries, all of which were very ably treated by Healer Gaige. He has a long recovery ahead but yes, we are hopeful", she stressed the word, pausing until Varick nodded his understanding, "that he will make a full recovery. I take it he's a cousin?"

Varick beamed in relief. "That's welcome news, lady Healer. Yes, Gaven is a cousin." Varick paused, then added, "He is Leithen's brother, sir and lady. Lord Caridoc's youngest. We all have been very worried about him."

Startled glances this time as understanding dawned. "We will – as we do for all our patients – do our very best for him." Kyminn gave the lad's shoulder a gentle shake. "Now. About those fish…"

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Welcome Healers," Lord Caridoc did them the courtesy of rising from his desk at their entrance. He gestured towards a comfortable sitting area where trays already awaited.

"From what Gaige tells me, Healing is like any other kind of hard work and it needs energy to keep your strength up. And with my wife having borne us six children, I _know_ growing a bairn has its own demands on a woman's appetite. Sit! We can talk while you eat."

Caridoc suited action to words and filled a plate with various pastries and fruit before he settled himself into a chair. The man could have been an older version of Leithen, down to the distinctive nose and craggy features.

"Thank you, My Lord Caridoc," Cydris somehow managed to remain graceful in spite of her prominent abdomen. "This is very thoughtful of you."

"My Lord," Kyminn grasped the nettle firmly, "About yesterday, please accept our apologies for the disruption to your household."

A grunt as Caridoc swallowed a bite of egg tart. "Gods know, my own children have done more outrageous things. I'll grant you though, that yours were a new one to me."

"My lord," Kyminn gave an abbreviated version of the children's story, glossing over some of the uglier aspects of life in the Tedrel camps and completely omitting any mention of attempted murder.

From the narrowing of Caridoc's eyes, Kyminn suspected the Lord understood quite well what Kyminn hadn't said about the children's past – and why he'd chosen to skip the lurid details.

"We'd heard something about an army of children coming back with the K…Queen," Caridoc admitted. "What you've told me explains much." He shook his head. "I won't say you're out of the woods yet, Healers, and I wish you well with them."

The lord of Forst Reach paused and, at their nods, poured them each a glass of spiced wine. Beverages distributed, he sat back. "So. Tell me about my people." It was more command than invitation.

Kyminn complied. Somewhat to his surprise, Caridoc refused to settle for an overview, pushing them for an in-depth explanation of each injury, treatment and expected outcome. When it came to Gaven, Caridoc's questioning demanded neither more nor less of the Healers.

"I know I asked Leithen to convey my thanks," Caridoc began.

"And he has done so," Kyminn assured the Lord.

"But I would say it myself as well – you have our gratitude, Healers. Gaige is a good man and an excellent Healer. I count us lucky to have him. There's no shame in needing help when the problem exceeds one man's capacity and I won't have anyone fault Gaige for it. Still, I'm mort glad there were other Healers nearby when we needed you, and that you came so quickly."

"It was our duty and our pleasure to be able to assist," Cydris said quietly. She glanced at Kyminn and then added, "My Lord, there's something we should talk about."

Kyminn looked his wife curiously, but said nothing.

"Should I be concerned?" Caridoc straightened in his chair.

A faint smile. "No, My Lord, I shouldn't think it's a matter of concern. It's just…were you aware that Gaven has the Healing Gift?"

Kyminn didn't hide his startlement. His expression faded into pensive then and he gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"Is that what that was?" Kyminn tilted his head at Cydris.

"I wasn't sure yesterday," she was answering both men. "I was concentrating on assessment and the first treatment. But yes, I'm sure. Remember Kym, Eiven was a Gift teacher. He showed me what to look for and the fundamentals."

Kyminn glanced at Lord Caridoc. The man's face was a mixture of pride, hope and…grief?

"My Lord?" Kyminn prodded gently. "Is everything alright?"

Caridoc focused again, turning his head to regard Kyminn. "You're sure?"

"My Lord, she is." Kyminn hesitated. "You seem…concerned…by this news, my lord."

"Don't take it amiss Healers – I honor and respect Gifts. Our family is proud to record several Heralds and even a Bard or two among our lineage. You'll forgive me though, if this father takes a moment to grieve the loss of his son."

"Loss?" Kyminn didn't try to hide the surprise. "My Lord, there's no loss. Gaven need not go to Haven if he doesn't want to. His training could be completed in any number of places and then – if he wished – he could settle here." Kyminn decided not to mention that in most cases where the families of Healers and Bards tried to keep their Gifted children tied to apron strings, the likelihood of said youngster returning home after a taste of freedom was vanishingly small.

Caridoc shook his head. "It's not what you think, Healers." Caridoc pulled a bell cord and when the servant appeared, sent the man for Leithen.

It was an awkward silence while they waited. Finally, though really only a few widths later, Leithen strode in, clearly having come in some haste. At his father's gesture, Leithen pulled up another chair and joined them.

"You called me sir? I gathered the matter was urgent."

"The Healers tell me," Caridoc was wry, "that your brother Gaven is a Healer."

"Really? Father that's…oh, yes. I see." Leithen's initial pleasure changed to thoughtful concern.

"My lords?" Kyminn prompted. "If this is a household matter, by all means we will leave. But as this involves a prospective Healer and a Gift that requires attention, I would ask for quite a bit more clarification than you have offered."

"You are aware, were you not, that Leithen is my heir?" Caridoc queried.

"No, my Lord, we were not." Kyminn paused. "Leithen, you said you are the second born. I take it you have an older sister?"

Grief flashed across Caridoc's face again. "Leithen's older brother, Corith, was killed last summer in the war."

Kyminn said quietly "My lord…the words 'I'm very sorry for your loss' are never enough, but I offer them all the same."

Leithen glanced at his father and took up the narrative. "I was a few moons too young or I'd have gone this past spring. As it was…my twin sister, Aishel, died in childbirth this spring, at winter's end."

Unconsciously, Cydris folded her arm protectively over her own belly. "I'm so very sorry. Your family has suffered great loss over this past year."

Caridoc shook his head. "None more than other families have. Most every household lost a relative – if not a son or daughter, then a cousin or some such." He sighed. "My wife and I had six children, Healers. Our daughter Wenna died a decade ago of a childhood fever. We grieved her, aye and I know for a fact my lady wife still feels the loss acutely. But the sun rises and there are other needs, so…we carry on.

"Now though, we've only Leithen, Gaven and our daughter Leilyss." Caridoc looked at Kyminn expectantly.

He nodded his understanding. "If anything – my apologies Leithen – should happen to Leithen here…the succession could be complicated."

"It's not your fault, Healers. You didn't give Gaven the Healing Gift…" his eyes narrowed and he eyed Cydris suspiciously, "did you?"

A quick headshake. "No, my Lord," she assured him. "It's not a thing one can 'give' to another. Its like having blonde hair or a birth mark. One is born with it or one is not. And," she added, "Gifts do tend to run in bloodlines."

"As I surmised." Gruffly. "Never fear that I will prevent Gaven from getting whatever training or assistance he needs. But succession aside – and in case you didn't know, Healers – no one who has a title and lands and people who look to him can ever take the matter of succession lightly – I'm aware that one of my last surviving children will have to leave and that I may seldom see him again. It is a raw time and yes, a kind of loss that we will grieve."

"If its of any solace my Lord," Cydris said quietly, "It is three or four moons – at a minimum – before Gaven will be able to ride again. By then it will be in the heart of winter and I certainly wouldn't recommend taking new-healed bones into the cold if it wasn't necessary. Frankly, my Lord, I see no reason the trip can't be put off until spring. That will give you ample time to consider where Gaven should take his training. In the meantime, I can get him started on the basics of managing his Gift and if Gaige isn't able to take the training farther, Gaige can arrange to have a traveling Healer or Herald help out."

"That…eases things somewhat, yes. Thank you, Lady Healer." Caridoc was quiet for a moment. "It was my intention, Healer Kyminn, to discuss the matter of the stallion Hugo with you this morning. In light of this information, you'll forgive me if I defer that until later?"

"Of course, my Lord."

Caridoc turned his attention to Cydris. "Was it your intention to be joining that discussion Healer?"

"If my Lord would forgive my absence, I will be working with Healer Gaige this afternoon. Several of the injured are due for additional Healing sessions. Kyminn is not needed for those."

A nod. "If it's not too much too ask, would you be willing to spend some time with my lady wife this afternoon Healer Cydris? It's my understanding that there are a number of ladies who are experiencing some very…particular…complaints and my lady feels these would benefit from a female perspective."

A faint smile. "I would be happy to, my Lord."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Unsurprisingly, the afternoon meeting with Lord Caridoc occurred in the same room as before.

"My lord," Kyminn offered the master of Forst Reach a deferential nod. At his host's gesture, Kyminn took the same seat from earlier in the day.

"If it's not over-reaching my lord, may I ask after your lady wife, given the news of this morning?" Kyminn asked politely.

Thick brows furrowed while the Ashkevron lord considered the question. Finally, a grunt and a nod of acquiescence.

"Lady Dedra is quite delighted, both at Gaven's prognosis and his new-found opportunities. She seems quite confident that the matter of succession will resolve itself soon enough." A snort. "My lady wife seems to have forgotten the surfeit of trained and blooded cousins, many of whom could readily make a claim."

"My lord, as a Healer, Gaven need not surrender lands and titles, not as a Herald must. He remains in the line of succession. Indeed, there have been cases in the past where the crown has required a Healer or a Bard to return to the family seat and take up the title." Kyminn shrugged. "We were required to study the law where it speaks of the duties, rights and obligations of Healers."

"I am quite aware of the laws of succession, Healer Kyminn." Caridoc's expression was polite, but the undertone of rebuke was unmistakable.

Kyminn gave a seated half bow in acknowledgement. "My apologies my lord. I did not mean to overstep."

Caridoc said nothing for a moment, then nodded his acceptance of the apology. "I have the impression, Healer Kyminn, that you are a rather forthright fellow. Deference to those higher born than yourself doesn't come naturally to you." There was a faint smile.

Kyminn considered Caridoc's words. "My lord," and it was clear he was putting a good deal of thought into his response, "it might surprise you to know that most would describe me as measured and thoughtful – with a tendency to toss it aside to follow my calling and my conscience. This habit has sometimes had…interesting…consequences. And yes, my lord, those do include situations where those better born than myself have considered me to be _decidedly_ less than ideally deferential." Kyminn firmly quashed an internal urge to make an obscene mental gesture in Lord Corbie's general direction.

Kyminn offered a rueful grimace of apology. "My lord, I assure you that I meant no offense and that I am well aware of the rights and priviledges of your station. I do admit that I have a habit of being protective of patients and trainees, and your son is both of those. Also, as you are well aware, death and illness respect no rank or station. When I battle those foes, it sometimes happens that I cannot take the time to so either."

The Lord's "Humph" held no rancor. "It is difficult for me to fault zeal in your duty."

A nod. "My lord, thank you for understanding that."

Caridoc settled back into his chair. "Healer, it may well turn out that Gaven must be recalled to serve the Reach. Gods know that's the last thing I want, for it means that something has happened that leaves Leithen dead without male issue. Notwithstanding that catastrophe, my reasons for not wanting Gaven to stand as heir are for his own sake, not mine."

"Sir?" Kyminn couldn't hide his surprise.

A grunt. "You said it yourself Healer. Your duties as a Healer require you to set aside other considerations. Tell me, what would you do if you had been Lord here during the wall collapse? Offered leadership and guidance – or rushed to save the injured?"

Kyminn started to answer, then caught himself. "My lord, I don't know. In my own stead, I'd have delegated the leadership and helped the injured. But I have not been raised to rule – my sense of duty in that regard is not near as developed as it must be for the Lord of the Reach. To be honest, I can see where my indecision would have served neither the crisis nor my patients."

Caridoc nodded. "And that, Healer, is why I will make an offering to the Three that Gaven never be called to the title. I'll not have him torn between two duties, not if it can be helped."

Caridoc shook his head and rapped on the table for emphasis. "Enough. We will serve Gaven's needs as best we can, but that can wait. So. You've brought me my horse back."

Kyminn's features bloomed into a smile. "Indeed I have my lord. It has been my honor and pleasure to have done so. I take it you have seen him?"

A headshake. "I have not."

Surprise again. "My Lord?"

"Don't get me wrong, Healer. I've had a full report from my master of horse. I'm quite aware of Nightfall's condition and limitations."

"Excuse me, my lord, but…Nightfall?"

"The stallion's name is Nightfall Thundersong, out of Bard's Song Night's Lady by Thunder Dancer. 'Hugo'", and the Lord gave a snort, "was my sister's appellation. A play on 'huge', for the animal's size, as I recall."

"I see." Having spent several moons with the no-nonsense then-Captain Nikki Ashkevron, Kyminn strongly suspected it was less a play on words and more a refusal to ride a horse with such a pretentious name.

"However," and it was dry, "since we tend to use stable names, and since my horsemen – to a man – adore my sister, I suspect I'm not going to get my way in this and one of my premier stallions is going to answer to a plow-horse's name."

Kyminn tried to keep a polite, sympathetic mien. "I see my Lord. Thank you for the explanation. And, as you say, the animal is well known by the nickname."

"Indeed." A headshake. "In any case, as I've said, I have not yet seen him. I was waiting for you."

"My lord?" Startled.

"We are not so bluff and rustic as you might think, Healer Kyminn. Aside from the spectacle in my courtyard," the Lord smiled at Kyminn's wince of chagrin, "my horseman told me that you insisted on waiting until the stallion could be properly seen to. All this while your wife and fellow Healer was running for the infirmary." The lord paused, inviting Kyminn to respond.

"My lord, the accident had happened several days before and we knew the patients were stable. My wife knew this from her Gift even as we drew rein in your courtyard. She – and her Gift – were what was needed at that instant. Mine were not. A delay would not have made a difference for the injured, but it made a tremendous difference to your horse."

A nod of satisfaction. "And that, Healer, is why I waited. You and your wife showed a great deal of respect for me and my house in that moment. As well, you have both worked unstintingly since your arrival. Aside from coin, there is little I can offer as recompense. Allowing you to present the animal you have come so far to return seems the least I can do."

Kyminn surprised himself at how deeply Lord Caridoc's gesture touched him. His candlemarks and moons spent speaking with, healing, and working with Hugo had left him very attached to the stallion. To be permitted this moment of return moved him greatly.

"Thank you, my lord." The bow – although seated – was deep and heartfelt.

###

The afternoon sun was a bright in the deep blue sky, promise of a chill fall night. The leaves were starting to move from yellow to orange, with a few red scouts scattered through the foliage.

Kyminn took the lead rope from the stable master's hand and, with a deep breath of anticipation, led Hugo into the stable yard.

Scarred or not, the stallion was magnificent. The stable hands must have spent candlemarks on him – washing, trimming, grooming the black hide until it gleamed.

In another world, a horseman would have called the animal a trakehner. A giant even among a group of warm-bloods that customarily ran to 17 hands, Hugo's rectangular body, short cannons and sturdy build made him the epitome of that versatile class. His fine muzzle and broad forehead bespoke the intelligence for which the bloodline was known. Watching the animal float around the ring, his springy trot flowing through his balanced center was like watching dark poetry.

There was the faintest of catches in gait as Kyminn urged Hugo into a canter, the stallion's scarred muscles stretching at the request. Somehow, it made the beast seem even more able as the beast acknowledged his battles and moved through them.

As Hugo drifted to a halt in front of Lord Caridoc, Kyminn said feelingly, "My Lord, it is easy to see why this bloodline is used to improve other lines. If there is a fault in him, I'm not aware of it."

Caridoc ducked through the rails, slowly approaching the stallion to run his hands over the horse. Hugo turned his head to regard the lord, snorting gently.

Caridoc let the horse snuffle, re-learning this long forgotten scent. As Caridoc examined the animal, Hugo stood patiently, attentive to this new human.

The Lord of Forst Reach paid great attention to Hugo's scars on flank, barrel and head. As the Lord probed gently at the healed flank, Caridoc spoke to Kyminn.

"Healer, I understand your gift serves horses, is that correct?"

"It is, my Lord. All beasts actually, but I do better with the larger or more intelligent."

"And can you tell me then, if he is feeling any discomfort now?"

"He is not, my lord. I would have halted if that were the case. He was fatigued after yesterday's gallop, but no more than one would expect. He is fit, my lord. It is mostly his vision and lingering mental wounds would make him unsuited for battle. Thank the gods that he is no longer needed for that service."

"Indeed." Caridoc completed his examination and turned to face Kyminn. "This was well done, Healer Kyminn. You have the thanks of myself and my house."

"It was, as I said, my pleasure sir." Kyminn placed the lead in the Lord's hand, smiling faintly as Caridoc's hand closed gently over it.

"Would I be aright," Caridoc smiled, "in thinking that you would enjoy a walk through our stables?"

"I would like that very much indeed, my lord!"

###

"This stallion is one we are using to breed a bit of weight into our cavalry line. He's given us some very nice offspring who have done very well both there and as heavy hunters. Some of his get are fairly showy and there's a lot of young lords happy to find a place for them." Caridoc shook his head. "This fellow here," he patted the bay neck, "had a full brother, a very nice liver chestnut. We had a time trying to fit both into our breeding program but in the end, we had to let the red go. He was exceptional, but this fellow is just that little bit better. Still, one can't help wondering what might have been."

###

"Many of our best cavalry animals come from this scruffy looking grey fellow. These won't end up in a lord's stable with his high-blooded hunters, but these are more valuable in their own way."

###

Kyminn treasured that afternoon. Unlike the levy, he didn't have to wrest these animals away from their home farm and send them into perilous service. He got to enjoy them simply for what they were – magnificent animals that were respected and valued. Caridoc's knowledge of the beasts was extensive and where the lord's memory failed on a detail, Egar, the master of horse, filled it in.

"Healer Kyminn, you indicated that your Gift worked on horses. Would you be willing to apply it to a few ours that might have need of it? You would, of course, be fairly compensated for your work." Caridoc was watching a group of yearling fillies gambol in a nearby field.

"My lord, I would be willing, but I cannot promise that I will be able. A Gift is like a flask that fills itself up. As I pour it out, I must rest and let it refill itself. At present, I am giving that strength to Healers Cydris and Gaige. That is why I was not required this afternoon – I have little left after this morning's work. Cydris will use her own strength this afternoon and Gaige's if it proves he has any. He may not, given his efforts of late.

"The duration of time we can remain here will, I'm afraid, depend solely on the needs of your injured. As it stands, we've still another moon to travel and I expect the last bit may be closer to winter than I'd prefer. For reasons I don't have to explain, I'm sure you understand that I'd rather not delay any more than we must."

A snort. "Indeed. I can only imagine what Lady Dedra would have said at the prospect of birthing a child on the road – in a blizzard. When will the child arrive?"

"Whenever he or she chooses, my lord." It was dry. "But, barring anything untoward, sometime in the second month. So while there is little risk of any roadside delivery, I'd rather be in Oakden well before then."

"So speaks a wise spouse." Caridoc nodded. "I understand. Well, if it comes that you can see your way able to help Egar here, the offer stands. But, as you said, the injured come first."

###

"…I could go on for candlemarks, but I can tell you've heard me go on too long about horseflesh already." Kyminn grinned down at where Cydris lay curled against him. The children had tumbled into bed without protest, full of tales of their day. There had _not,_ to the parent's relief, been a repeat of anything like their encounters with Shasta. Ansen had thoroughly enjoyed his first attempt at fishing, although he was disappointed to have returned empty handed. Varick had promised another trip in the morning if the weather held. Ansen was quite determined that next time he would be successful.

"That's alright. I know how you feel about horses." Cydris yawned.

"And how was your day? I take it you met Lady Dedra. Any medical issues with the lady-folks that I should know about?"

Cydris snorted so loudly that Kyminn looked down at her in surprise.

"The ladies 'medical issues' generally have a lot more to do with Gaige being a single, available male than with any other problem. Oh, a few of the ladies – notably the older ones, have some concerns. Most of those are normal and natural parts of the aging process and they were delighted to have a woman to explain their symptoms to. I left them some powders that will help and told them I'd leave instructions with Gaige for him to make more – no questions asked.

"As for the others, well…Lady Channe had a mysterious rash that only appeared on certain parts of her chest. And her skin smelled of turpentine but her clothes did not. So I prescribed a series of medicated baths and advised her to stop painting while naked. I gave her that dreadful soap we found where the maker mixed the wrong oils."

"I remember that one. What a funk! The combination is harmless and the soap cleans perfectly fine, but the smell when you get it wet!" Kyminn howled with laughter.

"Indeed. I told her to use it every time the rash returns. She's to use it for a sennight or until the rash disappears, whichever comes first. Somehow, "Cydris giggled, "I doubt the problem will repeat itself."

"And the others are similar?" Kyminn quirked an eyebrow.

"More or less. Word must have spread because a lot of ailments suddenly resolved themselves. The handful that were left were legitimate and easily solved."

"And Lady Dedra?"

"Lady Dedra is perfectly lovely. You'll like her when you meet her for dinner tomorrow. We're invited to dine in the hall and Lady Dedra is doing us the honor of having us sit at the head table." Before Kyminn could protest, she added, "The children will be seated with the cousins, under the supervision of Varick and the nurses."

"Thank the gods," Kyminn muttered, then twitched as she poked him in the ribs. "I'm just being realistic dear. They've just gotten used to dishes and cutlery. I don't think they're quite up to head table manners yet."

"You have a point, but still…" she grumbled.

"So," he gave her a gentle squeeze, "how long do you think we'll be needed here? The original plan was for a day or two. Just long enough to drop off Hugo and get that settled."

She sighed. "I'd like at least a sennight. Ten days if you think our schedule can stretch that far. Between the three of us we can get a good bit of the bone-healing done. Enough that the injured can be settled to recover on their own over the winter. Most of them will spend at least a couple more moons in bed or in very limited activity."

He sighed. "That's what I estimated too. I'll see if Lord Caridoc will be willing to trade out some of our gear for cold weather things. We planned for fall, but not really winter. I admit it's not likely, but I don't want to take any chances with an early storm."

"I'd say you're borrowing trouble, but…you don't borrow trouble my dear. It knocks on the door and you invite it in for tea."

It was his turn to poke her.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Lord Caridoc was not only amenable to providing winter gear, he insisted on it. Summer sleeping gear was replaced with heavy woolen blankets along with, to Kyminn's delight, soft, light blankets woven from chirra-wool.

Cydris eyed the blankets dubiously until Kyminn bundled her up in one. Within moments, she had to open it for relief, amazed at how well it had trapped her body heat. He'd been surprised that she had never heard of the incredibly useful cold-weather beasts until he recalled that she had been raised in much more southerly climes. He promised to introduce her to the Guard's chirras once the family got settled in Oakden.

Along with the blankets, there were stacks of warm clothing for the children. None of this was new, but it was all durable and of good quality. Kyminn and Cydris were delighted and grateful for the largesse.

It was Lady Dedra who insisted on having, in her words, "proper winter jackets" made for all of them. These were layered with a soft inner lining of cotton and chirra with a second liner of wool. Leather outer shells completed the gear. The children's gear ended just below the waist and came with a pair of lined canvas pants to keep snow and wind out. The adults' jackets were much longer, stretching to the knees and split fore and aft for riding. Cydris's had a high belt to accommodate her growing figure.

The wagon had been refitted with heavy felt liners beneath the canvas. In the fall days, it was nearly too warm but would be incredibly useful in a bare few sennights.

Between the preparations and their patients, their expected ten days at Forst Reach had already stretched to a fortnight. One of their patients – the mason – had developed an infection in the bone and required additional surgery. Loathe to leave until they were certain that Gaige had no further need for them, they simply accepted the fact that this last stage of their journey would be cold and mostly likely miserable.

The extended stay did have a few benefits though. Ansen managed to (finally) catch his first fish and proudly served it to his parents and siblings for dinner. Coming from privation, the ability to provide food for the others was particularly meaningful for the boy. Kyminn and Cydris took great care to afford the offering the respect the occasion deserved.

It also gave Raf an opportunity to present them with five puppies. Three of them had the smooth coats of their fathers, the other two had the shaggy malinois coat of their dam. The children were delighted and instantly developed a proprietary interest in the squeaking bundles. The delivery itself had been smooth and uncomplicated. Five puppies in a wagon was likely to be rather more so.

Kyminn managed to eke out some time and energy to spare for the Reach's horseflesh, much to Lord Ashkevron's pleasure. The Lord's offer of compensation was countered by Kyminn pointing out that Lord Ashkevron was already providing a great deal in the way of equipment and food. The ensuing negotiations took several evenings and more than a few bottles of the Lord's better port before they came to an arrangement.

###

"Trouble?" Kyminn asked Egar. The horseman was assessing the progress of some promising two-year olds while Kyminn kept notes. Kyminn was careful to only record the horseman's exact words. Later on, some of these would be copied directly into the herd book and it was important that they be accurate. Kyminn was 'listening in' while the animals were put through their paces and he passed on any interesting tidbits as they arose.

"Nah." Egar flicked the rope and the gelding stretched out into a canter. The youngster tried to toss his head and Egar corrected automatically. "Herald coming." The horseman pointed with his chin to the watchtower where a white flag fluttered. Although Forst Reach was in 'safe' country, Caridoc took no chances. It also, he'd explained to Kyminn, meant that he had a few extra moments warning in the event of an emergency.

"Oh?" Kyminn craned his head even though the bulk of the keep obscured any view of the road.

"Tis about due. Should be the courier, not the circuit Herald. We were told to expect one what with the Queen's coronation. I imagine he's here to take the Lord's oath."

###

The Herald in question was indeed there to accept Lord Ashkevron's oath, among other duties.

Kyminn had asked a servant to pass on the message that the Healers were available should the Herald or her (for it was a 'her', despite Egar's prediction) Companion have need of them. The offer was mostly courtesy. They both knew that they would have been summoned immediately had there been any actual need.

It was a surprise then when the request came for both he and Cydris to attend the Herald and Lord Caridoc.

"Herald Mansie, Healers Kyminn and Cydris Danner." Caridoc nodded to each in turn.

The dark-haired Herald was somewhere in her third decade. Compact, with powerful shoulders that spoke of years of sword-training, she gave the Healers a polite nod, her green eyes missing no detail.

"Healers, among my several duties in this area I am tasked with delivering a message. My instructions in this are rather specific and, frankly, unusual. Along with a description – and I expect that a pair of Healers, one of whom is pregnant and the other who uses a cane are extremely unique – I have been told I must verify your identities before I release the message."

Kyminn and Cydris exchanged startled glances. "Of course we'll comply with whatever you ask, but…forgive me I agree that it all seems rather extreme." Kyminn gestured to himself and Cydris. "As you said, we're a rather distinctive pair."

"Herald, this seems like Herald business, I expect I'd best be going." Caridoc's gravelly rumble was somber.

"Actually, Lord Caridoc, I'd prefer you stay. Now that you and your heir have provided your oaths, I think it would be a good idea to have a sworn witness to their identities."

Caridoc blinked, but nodded.

Mansie turned her attention back to Kyminn. "I agree that these are very unusual instructions. However, they are signed by both the Queen's Own and the Dean of Healers. I'm not going to argue."

"Herald," and Cydris's tone was uneasy, "You don't have any idea of the contents of the message? Or the subject?"

Mansie shook her head. "I don't. I had three copies of the message, all with the same instruction. Your route up here passed through two circuits. I left a copy with each of the circuit Heralds in the event you crossed paths with them."

"I see." The degree of redundancy suggested that Tannel and Talamir very much wanted the message delivered. This was not reassuring. As the saying went "Bad news needs no Herald". Kyminn strongly suspected that in this case, it had required three.

"In that case, Herald Mansie, I think we had better receive whatever message you are here to deliver." Kyminn's nod was grave.

Receiving the Truth Spell was, by now, old hat for Kyminn. In less worrisome circumstances, he would have smiled at Caridoc and Cydris's widened eyes when the blue haze settled around his shoulders, but he could find no room for levity.

Cydris did her part without qualm or quaver, quietly confident as always.

The ritual complete and their identities verified, Herald Mansie turned over the message packet. As she had said, it bore both the seals of both Circles.

The first portion of the message was a disconcerting update. Three more Healer Trainees had been identified as missing in the last two years and, more disturbingly, over the summer another one had been attacked on his way to enroll at his local temple. The boy had survived, but had been beaten so badly that he had a permanent brain injury. There was now some question as to whether or not he would recover well enough to ever become a Healer.

Kyminn could feel the blood draining from his face as he read the second section.

 _I must also tell you that shortly after you left, Renya suffered an accident while riding. Her girth parted as she went over a jump and she came off her horse. While she was injured, I assure you that her injuries were not serious and she WILL make a full recovery. In fact, by the time you get this, she is well once more. We did not stint on her Healing._

 _We undertook a thorough investigation and, as you have already surmised, the accident was indeed deliberate. The underside of the girth was scored and weakened, high up beneath the saddle pad and behind the buckle. It would have taken a very detailed check for anyone to have noticed. We checked every other saddle in that stable and hers was the only one tampered with._

 _Kyminn, Cydris – we have used every tool at our disposal to identify who the assailant was. A Herald with the Gift of reading objects to 'see' their past read the girth for us. Unfortunately, all he saw was a masked, cloaked and gloved figure. Given the season, walking about with a cloak and gloves wouldn't have been remarkable. I'm afraid that seems to be a dead end – all he or she had to do was don the mask before touching the girth._

 _We have quietly increased security, but it may, literally be a case of locking the barn door after the fact. After much deliberation, and over Renya's objections, we determined that we could not guarantee her safety if she remains here in Haven._

 _I will not commit to paper her location, nor the name under which she now studies. She was, I assure you, moved safely and securely and is now settled elsewhere. Those around her know to watch over her – if not precisely why – and I am confident they have the will and means to keep her safe._

 _The opponent is becoming bolder and ever more dangerous. Whether this is from confidence or desperation, we cannot tell. We have added other resources to this, so don't feel this is all on your shoulders._

 _Be ever careful friends._

 _Tannel_

Cydris looked up at him, stricken. "Gods, Kyminn! Renya!"

"Healer? I gather it is ill news?" Caridoc's voice was heavy with concern.

"It…I'm afraid so, my lord. My – our – daughter was injured. She has recovered, but the situation…is serious." Kyminn was struggling for balance. "If you will both excuse us, we need to consider this news." Kyminn looked at the Herald. "Herald Mansie, will you be here a few candlemarks longer? It may be that we have a response for you to take back."

Mansie gestured to Caridoc. "We will be staying at the Waystation, but we will be returning here in the morning. There are some additional documents which must be prepared to accompany Lord Caridoc's oath. I will make sure I see you before we depart."

"Thank you, Herald Mansie, Lord Caridoc. If you'll both excuse us?" and the two Healers withdrew.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"Kyminn, enough!" Fear put real anger into Cydris's words.

Kyminn said nothing and continued his limping prowl of their suite.

"KYMINN! Have done! I swear by the Three that I will NOT lift a finger when you can't walk tomorrow because you've overstrained your knee. Stop twisting yourself into knots and actually talk to me!"

Kyminn threw his wife a slashing glare but dropped his gaze when she met his eyes, fire for fire. With a surly growl, he snatched up his walking stick and continued his pacing, albeit more slowly and with more than usual weight on the cane.

"I just…" Fear, anger and helplessness garbled his words.

"Want your hands around the neck of the bastard or bastards who are doing this, who are attacking the Gifted and who have imperiled your family." Cydris finished the sentence for him.

A bitter bark of laughter. "If I wanted the bastard who imperiled my family, I'd have to put my name on that list. It was my investigation that started all this."

"Stop being such an ass." There was scorn in her voice. "It's not always about you."

He glared at her again, but there was no heat in it this time. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod, limping over to sit beside her on the bed.

"I know," it was ragged. "This was going on before we even knew about it. We just shed some light on it and now the vipers are striking back. If not us, it would be whoever else was investigating. But," and the smile was wobbly, "now it feels like there's so much more to lose."

"Because there is," she said frankly. "Your world – your life – has expanded considerably these past few years."

"Among other things," he gave her six-moons pregnant belly a wry smile.

"Oh, have done!" But there was laughter beneath it now. She sighed. "The question remains, though."

"Aye," he would have risen to pace again, but let himself be restrained by her hand on his arm. "My head knows that the attempt on Renya is sennights or moons past and gods know I trust Tannel with her safety, but my heart wants to fly back and see with my own eyes!"

"Mine too," she admitted. "But she's safest if we don't and you know it."

"I know."

Silence stretched as they mulled over the problem.

"I wonder," Cydris finally ventured, "If we shouldn't consult with Herald Mansie."

"I agree we should draft a response to Tannel. One a little more measured than my initial response."

"Well, yes, that too, but I was thinking about Gaven."

"Gaven?" He seemed unsure as to what relevance their patient had.

"He'll most likely be heading to Haven in the spring," his wife pointed out.

"Oh. Horse turds. He will, won't he? Lord Caridoc should be warned."

"Which is why we need to talk to Herald Mansie."

###

Unsurprisingly, they weren't able to get a moment of the Herald's time until after breakfast. The weather had developed into one of those cold and damp fall days, the chill driving the children indoors. The horde, as Cydris had taken to calling the collection of younglings, were settled into the day's lessons. Other faults aside, Lord Caridoc faithfully followed the Valdemaran law which required that every child learn basic reading, writing and figuring. Kyminn and Cydris had gratefully taken advantage of the Lord's invitation to have their three join in the daily classes.

Kyminn had to admit he appreciated the candlemarks of respite the lessons provided.

"Herald Mansie," Kyminn began, "I need to ask you for a decision that only a Herald can provide."

"That is rather what we do," Mansie pointed out. "I gather this is related to the message I delivered?"

"It is." Kyminn outlined the contents of the message, along with the investigation, the previous attempts – all of it. Even the summary took half a candlemark.

Mansie said nothing, her unfocused expression reflecting a protracted discussion with her Companion.

 _::Did you know about any of this?::_

 _::We had heard…rumours.::_ It was reluctant. _::Taver was handling it from our side. I assume that Rolan is now, but as far as I know, this is being very closely held.::_

 _::Why on earth aren't we looking into this?::_ Mansie couldn't keep the surprise out of her mind-voice.

She could 'feel' her Companion stamp his foot in irritation. _::Because we have been rather busy with a recent war, among other things. The Healers have been doing a good job so far and haven't needed much from us. And before you say what I know you're about to say – yes, we have been helping. A Herald here and there have been asked to look into things here and there. The information finds its way back to the Healer's Circle. Until now, I didn't know the whole story.::_

Mansie sighed. _:I understand. There are never enough hands – or hoofs! – to accomplish it all, is there?::_

 _::We'd have to reproduce like rabbits to accomplish that,::_ Sandris pointed out.

"Not that you lot don't seem determined to try," she muttered aloud. Her mouth quirked up in a brief smile when she realized that the Healers hadn't even twitched at the apparent non-sequitur.

"The final piece, if you will, Herald Mansie, is that Healer Cydris has established that Lord Caridoc's son Gaven has the Healing Gift. He is presently recovering from a fairly serious injury, but next spring he will need to move to either the Collegium or a Healing temple for training."

"And you believe he is at risk." Mansie regarded the pair thoughtfully.

"We believe he _may_ be at risk," Cydris equivocated. "The majority of prospective trainees reach their destinations without hindrance. Frankly, one of the things we're having trouble pinning down is why some trainees are interfered with and others are left unmolested."

"Resources? Location? Timing?" Mansie pondered the problem. "It could be any number of things. Sandris tells me that the Healers – along with a bit of help from Heralds here and there – have been exploring all of them. You want me to tell you whether or not we should warn Lord Caridoc."

Kyminn nodded his head mutely.

There was another long silence while Mansie conferred with Sandris. Finally, she gave a thoughtful nod.

"Sandris feels, and I agree, that bruiting this about has the potential to cause more problems than it solves. First, it could cause panic, causing people to deny their Gifts and not get the training they need. I don't think I need to describe the problems that could result."

The Healers shook their heads in unison.

"Second, it could cause whoever is doing this to either accelerate their agenda or go into hiding. Both of these are problematic for their own reasons. Having said that though, I am going to talk to Lord Caridoc to make sure that he's aware that the roads are…less safe…these days. I will strongly urge him to make sure Gaven is well accompanied, given that a young lordling would make a tempting target to any highwayman out there. Lord Caridoc's no fool. He may well read between the lines of your letter and my sudden concern and guess something in the vague vicinity of the truth. He's also smart enough not to ask."

"For a moment there," Kyminn said candidly, "I was afraid you were going to ask us to take him back with us."

"I considered it." She grinned at their expressions. "For about a half a second. Surprisingly, I'm not a fool either. Unless you have talents above and beyond those I'm aware of, I don't think that – and forgive me for my bluntness – that a Healer with your mobility challenges, another Healer who will have a babe in arms and three small children are best suited for this task."

"Well," Cydris pointed out acerbically, "We'd be fine up until the 'keep him alive during an attack' portion."

Mansie snorted in agreement. "Exactly. Which is why I am going to go have a very careful conversation with Lord Caridoc. Will you have a reply for me before I go?"

"We will," Kyminn affirmed.

###

The weather had moderated only somewhat when they finally left Forst Reach two days later. Mansie and Sandris had departed the day before, the Healers' notes and reports sealed within Sandris's saddlebags.

"Last leg, my love," Kyminn pointed out as the keep faded into the trees behind them. "Nervous?"

"Not yet," she admitted. "Ask me again about a candlemark outside of the village. Hopefully your family is a little less interesting than mine is. Otherwise, it could be a very long winter."

"Northern winters are always long. And I haven't seen my family for five years now. Aside from the fact that I've apparently gained a few new in-laws, nieces and nephews, I've really got no idea. Never fear though. I know where there's a lovely barn we can stay in."

###

They'd known they'd outstayed fall, but that didn't mean they'd quite anticipated the misery of the season. The children one and all protested the cold and damp, their southern birth making them woefully unprepared for the rigors of the northern climate. Runny noses and sniffles abounded and both Healers brewed copious quantities of soothing teas and cough remedies.

Even in the ever-shortening days, they pressed as quickly as they dared. The horses weren't a good deal happier than the children at the dim starts and darker finishes. Kyminn cajoled and pushed them as much as his conscience allowed, mentally promising them a long, quiet rest at the end of the journey.

###

Cydris poked her head out of the canvas flap, her cheeks reddening in the cold. "Why did we stop?" She climbed out to join Kyminn on the bench, burrowing under the blanket and wrapping it tightly around them again.

She looked around in askance, the horses blowing and shifting in their harnesses. The road was unremarkable, no different from the hundreds of miles they'd traveled so far. A shallow gully came down one side of the road and continued on the other, spilling into a frost-rimed stream far below.

"This is where it all began," Kyminn said quietly.

"Where what began?"

"This is where Randen and Derris fell. Right here, right at this slide." His voice was rough with memory.

She slipped an arm around his waist, drawing him close. "Where Randen lost his leg and why you came to Haven. All that's happened since."

"It's odd that it looks so…ordinary, given what came after." Kyminn gave the horses a gentle mental nudge and they shifted back into motion.

"That's life. Things happen, we make decisions and our path grows from there. Speaking for myself – while I would never have wished the accident to have happened – I'm glad that your decisions led you to me. To where we are now."

"Me too." He gave his customary twisted smile. "Even if my toes are freezing."

###

It was still mid-afternoon when they clattered across the final bridge into Oakden. Kyminn tried to view it through Cydris's eyes, wondering if she saw it as a small, tight-knit village or if she saw only the weathered buildings and humble streets. He himself noticed the expanded sawmill and new drying sheds, signs of an economy bolstered by the recent conflict.

On the other hand, the poorest of the homes had improved little in the time he'd gone and one or two had even declined. He gave a mental snort, well aware of the fact that the occupant's prosperity had little to do with how wood was selling and more to do with the measure of effort involved.

Word of their coming had spread quickly, in the way that news travels in small towns. Already coats had been pulled on and doors were spilling their occupants into the street.

"Welcome home, Kyminn!" an unseen voice shouted from the crowd. Other voices took it up, murmurs of greeting and welcome washing around them.

"Let him through you daft fools. You want them to freeze?" Anya's frame had withered in the years since Kyminn had gone, but her voice still held the crack of authority. Sheepishly, the crowd drew back, grumbling good-naturedly at Anya's unsubtle prodding.

"Grandmother." He didn't remember getting out of the wagon, only sweeping her up in a hug, astonished at how small and old she suddenly seemed.

"Enough, boy." Anya wriggled out of his grasp, stepping back to regard him carefully. One hand gently traced his scarred face and he trapped her hand, gently pulling it away.

"I'm fine, Grandmother. Really. Older and with a few miles on me it's true, but I'm fine."

"Well, that depends now, doesn't it?" Anya countered, and Cydris could see where Kyminn got his ironic smile.

"On what?" Kyminn was suddenly wary.

"On whether your wife agrees." This time, there was mischief in the old Healer's smile. "Come on down, my dear. You and the children both. Let's get you inside and warm. If we leave it to Kyminn here, you'll sit there till dark while he says his hellos."

"I'm so bad as all that!" But he laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Where are mother and father?"

"Your mother is seeing to a patient." Anya held up a hand to forestall Kyminn's next words. "Nothing you need worry about. You just got here sooner than we expected and she's still doing her rounds. She'll be home shortly. As for your father, he's where he always is this time of year – helping lay out the stock in the drying sheds. I imagine someone has told him you've arrived."

In short order, willing hands were unloading their gear while the horses were taken off to a well-deserved rest. When Kyminn would have followed to help with the unloading and chores, Anya stopped him.

"You're the most exciting person to have come into town since the last time we saw a Herald. Let them help."

"I'm not exciting, grandmother. I'm just Kyminn – one of Berrin's Brood." Kyminn tried to protest.

She raised an eyebrow. "You've been to places and seen things most people here will never see. Even before you left, having Gifts set you apart. They're not quite sure what to make of you. This is their way of welcoming you home. It will pass, you'll see. Give it a few days for them to remember the time you and Benn drew pictures on the wall of the smithy using mud and horse turds."

He groaned. "I was six! And it was Benn's idea!"

"Yes, you were. And were you not scrupulously anatomically correct in your drawings, people would probably have forgotten it long since."

Cydris turned to regard her husband in amused surprise. "Kyminn? You never told me that story!"

"Can you blame me?" he muttered. He regarded his grandmother. "You're going to just love telling Cydris all the stories of my boyhood indiscretions, aren't you?"

"Well now," And Anya threw Cydris a slow wink, "That depends now, doesn't it?"


	30. Chapter 30

_Cydris_

It was good to step into the entryway, out of the wind. The narrow hallway was unheated, but was made warmer by virtue of its tight chinking and the heat radiating from the inner door. It was dim in spite of the lanterns hung at either end and she was grateful for the hands that helped her and the children shrug out of their coats and fumble them onto pegs.

She stifled a protest when Mehrhet squawked in surprise at being swept up in a stranger's arms, biting her tongue when she realized the woman was simply keeping her daughter's stockinged feet out of the snow they'd tracked in. Craning her neck, she saw the other children receiving similar assistance. A low step at the end of the entryway held an array of slippers and each of the adults stepped into a pair before entering the main room. She made a mental note to dig out their family's and follow the same sensible practice.

Stepping into the home after the dim entrance made the room seem eye-blindingly bright for a moment and she paused to get her bearings. A jovial "'Scuse me, there!" came from somewhere behind her and someone squeezed past. She hurriedly stepped aside, aware she was blocking the entrance.

"Nalla, some lemon-balm tea please for Cydris and the littles. And a drop of extra honey for the children while you're at it please." Anya beckoned to a well stuffed chair, positioned perfectly to take in the fire's heat.

"No, thank you. I couldn't take your chair." It was clear from the indentations in the cushions that this was Anya's accustomed seat. Cydris demurred, "I'll just curl up on here by the hearth if there's a blanket or something."

"In your condition, once you get down you may have trouble getting up again," the young woman – Nalla – pointed out with a smile. "I'll shift the loveseat over. Then you and the children can snuggle in while they warm up and get their bearings."

Cydris smiled gratefully and with a murmur of thanks, settled into the seat. She used the pretext of getting the children arranged to glance around the home. How odd to think of this as where Kyminn had been raised! She found her normal confidence eroded somewhat in this flurry of new relations. Putting names to faces, she tried to sort out who was who based on Kyminn's descriptions.

The youngest, Nalla, she already knew who that was. Based on the letters from Kyminn's family, Nalla had wed just the summer past. Judging from Nalla's waistline, the new bride was already on her way to adding to the brood stampeding about. The young man helping Nalla, with the gentle hand on her back, a reach to help her lift the heavy kettle - that was probably the new husband, but Cydris couldn't recall his name at present.

Celisse, as the only other sister, was easy to pick out. She seemed to be in charge of marshalling the youngsters who seemed to have made it their especial chore to be as underfoot as humanly possible. Square framed and firm, her stern demeanor was belied by the laugh lines framing her eyes. Cydris had to admire the ease with which the woman, apparently without looking, snagged a tow-headed lad out of the mix and swung him around until he was looking at her.

"Three sticks of firewood from each of you before you get your tea. Let your new cousins warm up before you pester them." A smile transformed her face. "And I think Grandmother may have made a batch of apple tarts for the occasion. I think they'd go nicely with tea, don't you?"

"Yes mama!" the boy grinned. In short order, the room was cleared somewhat as every child who could walk disappeared.

"If you're looking for Kyminn," Celisse offered, "He went in the other door, to Grandmother Anya's. Father added a place for her…oh, years ago, before Kyminn left. It's not huge, but it's got its own kitchen and sitting room if you need a break from this place." Celisse waved a hand to take in the crowd who were bustling about.

"I don't want to put anyone out!" Cydris protested.

"You're not!" Anya shook her head. "With Nalla gone, now it's just Keli and Berrin in this place. Plenty of room for me! And there's a good, solid wall between those rooms and the big house. Much quieter from my perspective. I'm too old to have a new babe keep me up half the night!"

"And yet, you're the first to sit up with Val's youngest when she's got the croup," Nalla pointed out.

"Well, that's just sitting in a nice, steamy room with a wee one in my arms. That's not hard at all!" Anya gave a half smile.

The family laughed. Apparently, Anya was only as 'retired' as she felt like being.

"Settled in, love?" Kyminn kissed the crown of her head and lifted Ansen out of the way so he could find a seat. He resettled the lad in the space between them and moved Niyeh onto his lap. His hand reached through the jumble of children to rest reassuringly on her knee.

"I am." A smile. "Your family has been very welcoming."

"Well, a couple of the men helped Da tack a couple of planks in front of one of the stalls to keep the pups contained." Kyminn gave his grandmother an innocent smile. "I thought we'd be testing Mother's coping ability enough with the kids. I didn't think it fair to add eight dogs to the mix."

Anya just shook her head. Apparently Kyminn's tendency to acquire menageries was a long-established habit. Instead, she turned to Cydris. "If you've managed with my grandson this far, I doubt you'll find us a challenge. I think there may be fewer of us!"

A real laugh. "Not quite, but I think I'm doing alright. I'm still getting all the names and faces sorted out though."

"Don't worry, there won't be a test." Cydris didn't recognize the speaker but judging from his resemblance to Celisse, this was one of Kyminn's brothers. The man clasped arms with Kyminn in welcome. "I have to say Kym, you've certainly looked better."

"You should see the other fellow," Kyminn said lightly.

The fellow shook his head, real concern in his expression. "I dunno, Kym. You took off to Haven and come back all banged up. I'm not so sure you should have gone."

Cydris was surprised at how calm Kyminn remained. Her husband shrugged. "I came back better than many, Val." His tone was somber. "I saw the casualty lists for this region. The village lost how many men?"

"A half dozen dead and another ten or so injured," Val allowed. "Both of the Protter lads were killed and I think it made the old man even meaner than before if such were possible. At least his wife passed, so she's free of that old bastard at least."

"That's enough, Val," Anya was firm. "We're not gathered to gossip or speak ill of the dead – or of the living."

Val threw his hands up but desisted.

Kyminn wisely left the matter alone. Instead, he turned to Cydris. "While everyone is more or less standing still, let me put some names to faces," and he proceeded to do so, confirming her initial guesses and filling in the remaining blanks. He had to have help with a couple of the spouses and several of the children, many of them having arrived in the years since his departure.

Cydris simply let the conversation swirl around her, speaking when spoken to and puzzling out the personalities represented. The children, warmed and cautiously curious, mingled with the other children but took care to keep their parents in sight. Apparently, their experiences with Shasta had left them wary where new cousins were concerned.

"Kyminn!" Even if the well-worn Greens hadn't given it away, the embrace that pulled Kyminn out of the couch would have done the trick.

"Mother, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Cydris." She wasn't used to hearing that mix of pride and love in her husband's tone and it made her straighten in response. She started to rise, but Keli put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You're settled, don't worry about getting up." Keli gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We are so very pleased to meet you at last! For the past few years all Kym's letters have been 'Cydris this' and 'Cydris said that'."

Kyminn's smile was uncharacteristically embarrassed.

"I am looking forward to getting you know you – you and the new grandchildren you two have brought me as well!" Keli jerked a chin towards where the children were learning a ball and string game with some of the other youngsters.

"They…" Kyminn began.

"Will need some time to adjust," Cydris interjected. "For one thing, they are still learning Valdemaran, although they've come a tremendously long way since last spring."

"Then we'll do our best to be patient." Keli shrugged. "My son tends to follow his heart more than his head sometimes, but it generally leads him in the right direction. I'm assuming that it did this time too."

###

As winter settled in, so did their family. Once the damp cold of autumn became the dry cold of winter, the children found it easier to cope. They might never truly embrace this climate, but they learned to manage living in it.

Niyeh, ever the daredevil, took to sledding as though born to it, climbing higher and higher in pursuit of ever longer and faster runs. Generations of life in Oakden had long since mapped out all the tracks and their attendant hazards, so older cousins were always on hand to keep her in check. Even one of the village children breaking her collarbone after veering into a tree didn't dim Niyeh's enthusiasm.

Ansen enjoyed sledding, but not to the extent of his sister. He was far more interested in ice-fishing and the rabbit snares set by the village youth. He managed to eventually gain some proficiency with skis and often ventured into the woods with some of the boys his age. Kyminn, mindful of his son's complete inexperience with the hazards of snow and cold, made sure to send at least one of the dogs along with them.

Mehrhet was an indifferent slider and actively disliked snowshoes. She had tried the latter precisely twice and then avoided them whenever possible. She was often found with her grandfather, learning to carve and shape wood. Whether it was because she truly enjoyed it or it was simply an activity that kept her out of the cold was too early to determine.

To Cydris's secret (or perhaps not so secret) relief, Kyminn's family made an active effort to bring her into the family. There was a tendency at first for conversation to center on the activities and personalities of the village and area, topics about which Cydris could contribute nothing. As Cydris took some of the Healing tasks from Keli to give her mother-in-law a respite, Cydris began to learn the shape and history of Oakden. If nothing else, it gave her some context for the conversations.

Anya, perhaps realizing that Cydris needed to be more than "the Healer" or "Kyminn's wife", would often sit in the kitchen while Cydris helped with some of the day to day tasks. Cydris certainly didn't mind doing dishes or mending while Keli and Berrin saw to other obligations.

"I don't know if she's said so, but my daughter appreciates you helping like this." Anya was re-winding a ball of yarn. The children had knocked over the bag and the resulting tangle had been more than the children could clean up on their own. Cydris had sent them out to go 'help' Kyminn in the barn. It was his turn to deal with their energy.

Cydris turned from the sink with a smile. "She has. I got the impression that with Nalla gone, the chores tend to lag a bit, especially when she gets busy."

"Exactly. There's the same amount of house to heat and clean, even if there's a little less water to haul. Three for dinner or four - doesn't seem to make that much of a difference in the number of pots." The end of yarn was tucked neatly into the ball and Anya started work on the next tangle.

"I know." Cydris scrubbed for a moment. "Maybe I'm speaking out of turn, but…is there a village girl they could hire? Just for a bit of cleaning now and again?"

"She's thinking about it," Anya allowed. "I think that having your family here may make the difference. She sees how much lighter the burden is with your help – even with five added folks in the place. I've put a word in Berrin's ear and I'm hoping he'll follow through. There's a couple of young widows who would appreciate the extra income now and again."

"Well, let me know if I can help." Cydris dried her hands and refilled Anya's tea. Pulling out a chair, she reached for the tangle but Anya gave her hands a gentle swat. "Don't worry. I can do this. You tend to your own knitting."

A grin and Cydris meekly complied, settling her latest project onto the shelf of her belly.

"Where did you learn to knit?" Anya watched the pattern emerge from Cydris's practiced hands.

"Kyminn taught me."

"Kyminn knits?" Anya looked startled, as though Cydris had stated that her grandson had taken up yodeling.

"He learned in Warford. Tysen is from sheep country and there wasn't much else to do in the evenings, so…they knitted. He's kept at it ever since. This," she held up the piece, "Is a sweater for Mehrhet. I'll give it to her for Midwinter. See the Companions around the waist? She'll love it."

"Well. You learn something new every day."

"I was wondering…" Cydris said diffidently, "If you think Keli would like it if I made her something for Midwinter. I've got some lovely chirra wool from Lord Caridoc and…"

"And that would be a thoughtful and generous gift." Anya smiled.

Cydris had come to like Anya very much. In fact, she liked most of Kyminn's family. There was Benn's wife, of course, who interacted with the family as little as possible, a habit to which the others had become resigned. Cydris couldn't tell if the woman was shy, standoffish or something else, but Benn adored her and they certainly seemed happy. Celisse reminded her a bit of her own bossy sister, but without the hard edge and with an ironic ability to acknowledge her own faults.

It was with warm surprise then, when she realized one afternoon that she and Val's wife Edrith had spent the past two candlemarks discussing the antics of their children and the upcoming Midwinter celebration. She tried to picture having a similar congenial conversation with her own sister and boggled at the notion. Oakden was a far cry from 'home' as she knew it, but she realized its slower pace and lack of urgency were filling a need she hadn't known she had.

###

"No, boys, you will _not_ swordfight with icicles. Aaaand that would be why. Come on lad, let's make sure you haven't a concussion. Swordsmen are supposed to duck, you know."

###

"Val, your son has been teaching Ansen some new Valdemaran vocabulary. I'm not sure where he got them, but it's nothing that should be coming home to Grandmother."

"Cydris? Our nephew will be taking care of all the firewood for three next few days. For his house and ours."

###

"Someone get me some warm water. Someone told Niyeh to lick the iron gate hinge. Yes love, I know it hurts. I know your tongue is stuck. Hold still while we get you free."

###

Midwinter. The longest night of the year.

Stillness and cold. Ice like iron.

In the days prior, a child chosen by lot from each family had gone into the woods, carefully shepherded by an adult where needed. Ansen had drawn the stone from their family and while the ritual was unfamiliar, he understood that it was important. The boy listened carefully and collected the pieces as directed: Oak for strength, Maple for joy, Yew for courage, willow for service, holly for hope.

The holly was woven into a small wreath and set aside while the other woods were carefully carved into small slivers and mixed together.

As the last light was doused, Berrin recited the traditional words,

 _"_ _Each year, as the old year passes, we acknowledge that we too, will pass in time._

 _Like the seasons, we are new life and hope, we are growing and knowing._

 _We are maturing and wisdom, we are silence and passages._

 _We, like the year, are measured in the march of time._

 _It is up to us to make that measure, to know that there is darkness, but that we can be the light._

 _As light represents hope, let us also be light and hope._

 _Let strength, joy, courage, and service be the fuel of our light._

Berrin struck a spark and the fine shaved wood caught and held the glowing ember.

The gathered family gave a sigh of relief – catching the first spark was a good omen for the year to come.

Bit by bit, each member of the family added a piece to the fire. When all – even the babes in arms – had (some with the help of parents) made their offerings, the first blaze was used to light a candle. This was placed in the holly ring and set into a holder by the window. Throughout the darkened village, identical candles flickered in each window, captured stars on this darkest of nights.

Once the candle was set, the first flame was divided and used to light all the other fires in the household. No lanterns though. Tradition held that only the one candle would be lit until dawn.

In some places, there would have been festivities and activities until first light, but in a small village where daily chores were a necessity, these observances were much more subdued. In the Danner household, most of the household went to bed, to rest for the few candlemarks remaining before dawn. One person would remain awake to tend the fires and the candle. Benn had drawn the honor this year. Although he – like the rest of Kyminn's siblings – had his own household, for this occasion, the family gathered together under one roof. In the morning they would return, bearing flame to restart their own hearths. They would return for a hearty breakfast and give their homes time to warm up before going back to rest. Everyone would return to the main house to open their gifts and feast. Already buns were set out to rise in the kitchen.

Keli, as it turned out, loved Cydris's gift. The fingerless gloves were an innovation that hadn't made its way to Oakden as yet and the entire family immediately saw the utility. Cydris found herself promising the pattern to every knitter in the place.

Berrin's gift had taken a bit more thought but Cydris was quite pleased at the result. Kyminn had commented on his father's habit of misplacing gloves when he took them off for fine work. Berrin would either set them down somewhere and forget them or one would drop out of a pocket and be lost. Anya had suggested a string, like that used for small children, but Berrin quashed that idea.

Cydris's solution was a set of durable leather gloves with a removable chirra-wool lining. They were a trifle bulky, but more than adequate for using an axe or other tools. The chirra-wool linings were quite a bit longer than the outer gloves and wide enough to stretch over a sleeve. An extra band was attached to the cuff, creating a flat loop. Berrin could remove the gloves and flip them back, tucking them into the loop. The gloves would be out of the way, but accessible and secure. A slit in the inner pair let them flip back along themselves, letting Berrin remove outer or inner or both at need.

Berrin found the notion quite intriguing and not – to Cydris's relief – childish. Judging from the amount of experimentation that was occurring, the gloves would be well used.

It had been hard to explain the idea of Midwinter to the children. To them, it had been simply one more long, cold night. Only those males brought into the Tedrel cult ever learned about their rites and traditions and the children had learned to stay as far away from the warriors as possible.

Gift giving, that the children understood, for it fit in well with the 'share and share alike' ethos that had been fundamental to their children's society. The idea that they could _give_ gifts – that they would have something to give, this idea captured their imagination with a not-yet seen sense of delight.

The children had promptly taken the coppers given them by their parents and disappeared. While there were the occasional intense discussions and more than a few furrowed brows, the three kept silent on their plans.

It was Nalla who pointed Ansen in the direction of the local who could help him with fishing flies for Kyminn. Ansen gathered the feathers and fur himself and willingly paid the fellow in wood chopping for the delicate assembly. The same local said nothing when Kyminn approached him for help in making a fishing rod and hooks for his son.

Since knitting socks was well outside Mehrhet's skills, she turned to Anya. Anya 'sold' Mehrhet two pairs of socks and helped Mehrhet sew small loops on the tops. When Anya questioned their purpose, Mehrhet produced a (rather mismatched) pair of carved hooks not unlike a very long crochet hook. She then demonstrated how to pull up the socks – without bending over. The child had noticed Cydris's increasing inability to reach – or even see - her own feet and had come up with a clever solution.

These small things – handmade bracelets, clumsy and childish but made with love and struggle, tassels to add to toques, bookmarks of braids and buttons – these modest offerings held more value than all the riches of the Queen.

###

"Is this child ever going to arrive?"

"The babe will arrive in his or her own good time Kyminn. Anya and your mother agree that everything is fine. Now could you please help me up? I need to pee again."

###

"That child's not here yet? You growing a baby or a pumpkin?"

"I swear Kyminn, if Benn says that one more time I'm going to throw this kettle at him!"

###

"Cydris? You okay? You had a funny look there for a moment."

"Hmm? Well, yes. I've been having some contractions on and off all night and they've started to be pretty regular."

"Oh? Oh!"

###

"But mother…!"

"Kyminn, are you going in there as a father or a Healer?" Keli, as Healer, could be implacable.

Hesitation. "Whichever one lets me stay with her? I can be both, can't I?"

"Just remember that she needs Kyminn the husband, not Kyminn the Healer right now, understood?"

###

"I have you, love. You can do this. I'm here."

"I know. Now shut up!"

###

"We have a son!" Tender hands cradled the fragile limbs.

"You'll have to hold him more securely than that Kym!"

"Just remember that this is the only time you get to hold them this close. All to soon you start letting go."

Kyminn curled up next to his wife, their son swaddled on Cydris's chest. "My dear, you are amazing. I am in awe. Nothing I have ever done could be half so difficult!"

"Remember that next time I ask you to clean up after him." Her smile was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

"Kyminn, I think we should name him Cellan."

"Cellan? I thought we had Brendan picked out if it was a boy?"

"I know we did. But somehow, Cellan just feels right."

"Cellan." A kiss on the forehead, his son's wide blue eyes taking everything in. "Welcome to our family, Cellan Danner."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kyminn paused in his packing.

"That's the second time you've asked in the past half candlemark. I had a baby, I didn't turn to glass!"

"I know," it was sheepish. "I just don't want you to overdo it."

Her peal of laughter startled him.

"Kyminn, were it possible, I'd suggest that every woman do babies the way your family does! For the past moon and a half, the only thing I've _had_ to do is feed him. Even then, if we needed a wet nurse, I'm sure your family would find one."

She tilted her head, bemused. "Let's see…bathe the baby? You, Anya, your mother…even Ansen is more than willing. Same for diapering, dressing, laundering…I don't think I've seen a new mother so spoiled outside of the nobles! I have found," it was mischievous, "that there are many advantages to having married a man who spent years fending for himself. _You_ don't expect that that someone else – like your wife – will take care of the cooking, the laundry and all the other chores."

Privately, he thought the help had been a godsend. As a Healer, he'd known all the complications and problems that can follow childbirth, but now, seeing the pain, fatigue and emotional turmoil that his wife had experienced…well, he now had a visceral understanding of the profound challenges that could accompany even the most welcomed child.

Instead of voicing those thoughts, he just grinned back at her. "Well, back then, it was fend for myself or go tired, hungry and dirty. Now that I have you, it's do my fair share or find myself tired, hungry and dirty. A smart man doesn't get his wife mad at him, and only and _idiot_ would get a Healer mad at him!"

"You make me sound like a harridan!" But there was laughter in the words.

"Not at all, my dear! It's simply that I decline to accept you as anything other than my equal – aside from those areas where you surpass me." He put down the trousers he was folding and sat beside her on the bed. "That aside – are you sure you want to go on this trip with me?"

Cydris started to say something sarcastic, but stopped herself. "You keep asking me that. Kym, you said it yourself that the Guard station is only a day's ride. The weather is stable and not terribly cold. I can tuck Cellen inside my jacket and he'll be just fine. Aside from the occasional stop to change him, we can easily make the trip in the day.

"Tell me honestly, is this just parental nerves or is your Foresight trying to tell you something?"

He considered the question. "I don't think it's Foresight," he said slowly. "That Gift has been much, much quieter now that the war is over. Just a few things now and again, usually nothing I can do anything about. I haven't even gotten a flash on any Companions in trouble. I'm not sure if that's because I'm too far away for my Gift to sense them or because they're all relatively safe. I hope it's the latter. That would be nice change." The last was wry.

"Indeed it would," she said in heartfelt agreement. "As for this trip…to be honest, much as I like it here, and even though we've done so much travelling, I wouldn't mind a change in scenery, if only for a few days. Between you and me, I think the post Healer just wants another Healer or two to talk to more than anything. He did say that he'd had some cases the past year that we might find interesting. If the situation were more serious – or if there was any kind of outbreak, of course I wouldn't consider bringing Cellen. But you, me and the boys for a couple days? I'm rather looking forward to it. Besides," a smile, "There will be chirras. You promised you'd introduce me to a chirra."

"I did, didn't I? I can't go back on my promises! Alright then, we leave in the morning. You know," he resumed packing, "Ansen is really looking forward to this."

"I think it's a good thing." Cydris started folding the pile of diapers. "I'm very pleased that he and the girls are confident enough to be separated, if only for a few days. Your father has promised Mehrhet that they can make a block puzzle together and Anya is going to show Niyeh some finger knitting. I think it's good that they get to pursue their own interests."

"I still wonder a bit at Ansen wanting to come." Kyminn mused. "I certainly don't see him ever joining the Guard. I think being raised knowing he'd end up in that sick society has given him a rather dark view of the 'glories of war'. I don't know if you noticed, but he never takes part in the play fighting, or when the other boys play 'Herald and Bandit'."

"I noticed. It doesn't seem to bother him – and he certainly didn't seem upset whenever we stopped at any Guard stations. I think it's just that he has a pretty mature view of it all and wants no part of it. He certainly knows there is a moral difference between those who serve 'The White Riders' and the Tedrels. I suspect he's simply had his fill of fighting."

"Unfortunately, he's not the first youngster to feel that way and gods know he won't be the last. I'm just as happy to know our son isn't going to go haring off into danger." Kyminn buckled the straps down and started on the next pack.

"Easy to say now. For all we know, Cellen will turn out to be even more of a daredevil than Niyeh."

He groaned at the thought.

###

It was one of those days that can make even the most ardent summer-phile almost appreciate winter. The weather had moderated to just a degree or so below freezing. It kept the roads from being icy and slushy, and coupled with the bright sunshine, one could almost feel warm.

Both humans and horses wore the peculiar eye coverings that prevented snow-blindness. Cydris had been surprised at how readily the horses accepted the contraptions and had asked Kyminn if that was his doing.

"Nope." He carefully adjusted the mask on Ansen's mount. "They're used to them. In summer, when the biting flies are particularly bad, they wear something similar, only with a fine mesh screen. In the winter, they wear these a lot. We get a lot of snow here, but also a lot of sunshine. You'd think the mountains would trap the clouds and make for dreary winters, but this valley remains pretty clear. I suspect that's one reason people settled here."

"Huh." Cydris twisted in the saddle. "Are you settled, son?"

Ansen was on a horse that was actually more animal then he needed, but the packs slung fore and aft explained that. They'd have been bringing a spare horse for their gear anyway, so adding one slightly built ten-year old hadn't changed much.

"Yes, Ama." The boy carefully took up the reins. Cydris was pleased to see the line of his elbow and the position of his heels. A summer of riding had given the lad a strong foundation in good horsemanship. A few more years under Kyminn's tutelage and it would take a prybar to unseat her son. Oh, he'd never be an Ashkevron, but he'd manage quite well just the same.

###

"Welcome to Greyfall North." The Healer was so rotund that he reminded Kyminn of a bear fattened up for hibernating. Still, the man moved quickly enough, reaching up to lift Cellen down so Cydris could dismount.

"I think I'd better keep him." It was sheepish. "He seems to have overfilled himself. I think we're both going to need a bath."

The Healer surprised them with a laugh. "If I can't handle a little bit of shit, I wouldn't have asked for a posting to a Guard station. At least he's not swearing at the same time."

As if on cue, the soiled youngster moved from a restless grizzling to a full-throated bellow of outrage. Clearly, Cellen disliked his wet and smelly state and wanted _someone_ to do something about it.

"How about if I get him cleaned up while someone shows you where you can yourself cleaned up? I'm Nedd, by the way. In case you hadn't guessed." He plucked the protesting child from Cydris.

"Thank you Nedd, that would be appreciated," Cydris said gratefully. She swung out of the saddle and pulled off her saddlebags. She passed them to the Healer, who had settled the squalling infant into his own shoulder, heedless of the mess.

"Private Grimmon here will show you the way, while Balor and Stives take care of your horses."

As Nedd strode off, Kyminn shook his head. "I must say, I rather missed the efficiency of the Guard."

###

Being clean and fed had worked wonders on everyone's tempers. Ansen was curled up in a chair, his baby brother tucked into a sling while the older boy read to him. Ansen took every opportunity to carry Cellen about, and after it had become clear that this was something Ansen had a surprising amount of experience with, Kyminn and Cydris allowed it.

"Thank you Nedd, for the welcome and the help." Kyminn raised his glass of small beer in thanks. "Babies can have the worst timing!"

"So can soldiers." Nedd grinned. "But I gather you know that."

"Indeed." Cydris agreed, and smoothly changed the subject. "I take it our coming here is more social than professional?"

"Well, yes," their host admitted. "I hope you don't mind. I don't want you to think I brought you here on false pretenses, especially you with a new babe!"

"No worry on that score." Kyminn shook his head in negation. "We thought as much, and Cydris was going stir crazy."

"I can't say I blame her." Nedd nodded. "I'm not used to winters like this and I'm finding it hard to be cooped up so much. And that's without having a babe to tend to!" He threw Cydris a smile of sympathy. "So yes, I admit that I was delighted to hear there was a pair of unassigned Healers drifting about who might be willing to drop in for some professional conversation. I've met all the other locals – including your family in Oakden, Kyminn – but they can't afford to leave their patients for what is, essentially, a social call."

"Well, we're happy to be of service." Kyminn's seated bow was inelegant but sincere. "We can even see a few patients and justify the effort of getting us here, if that helps."

"I expect I will take you up on that," Nedd admitted. "And I do have a couple of head-scratching cases that I'd appreciate your input on. Nothing critical, but puzzling just the same. Oh, and the Herald-Courier had a message for you, Kyminn. It's from Healer Delassia." Nedd paused in handing over the bulky package and raised one eyebrow in query. "Not trying to pry, but is there any chance that it's _the_ Healer Delassia? It's certainly sealed to a fare-the-well!"

"I see you know her." Kyminn took the proffered packet.

"More by reputation than anything," Nedd admitted. "Is she really as good as she thinks she is?"

"Better, probably," Kyminn admitted. He waved the - yes, very thoroughly sealed packet - as an example. "For Delassia, one's best isn't good enough, and anything worth doing well is worth _over_ doing well." A headshake. "I have had one or two Companions as patients and Delassia was interested in those cases for her latest book. I imagine this is a request for yet more detail." He sighed. "She's not one to let a simple thing like 'being on leave' or 'having a child' get in the way of her projects. She's brilliant, but rather…focused."

"Well, you have my sympathies," and with that, the conversation moved onto news from the south and the activities at the post.

###

The boys were both sound asleep, Cellen hopefully for at least three candlemarks before he'd wake again to eat. Cydris was putting away the inevitable bits of gear which now seemed to follow them everywhere.

"Really, Kyminn. I know you get along with Delassia, but this is a bit much, even for her," Cydris grumbled as she tried to find a missing sock.

"Which exactly why this isn't from Delassia. I'm willing to bet it's from Tannel." Kyminn opened out the pages, smoothing them on the table in front himself. He skimmed over the contents, a request for, yes, more information as well as a draft chapter on repairing injuries to the knee joints of Companions. Even Kyminn found the text dry reading. He made a mental note to make some significant edits when he got back to Haven.

"Oh? Oh!" Cydris began rummaging through one of the packs. "Bard, Healer or Herald?"

"Bard – here it is: _"I have consulted with Master Bard Daxil regarding any known tales of wounded Companions. I believe it may help identify relevant events in the Chronicles."_

"Bard...bard…bard..." Cydris muttered as she dug. "Ha! Here it is. She triumphantly held up a book, one of Ansen's – 'The Legend of Bard Wynn'. It was a popular children's book, teaching moral lessons through sagas full of adventure and whimsy.

The code itself was simple enough, involving as it did a known series of dates, a mathematical pattern and both ends of the message having the same book. In this case, the words of the message were scattered through Bard Wynn's tale. Applying the pattern was straightforward, but time consuming. It took nearly another candlemark before they agreed they had the message deciphered correctly.

 _Your daughter is safe and doing well._

Seeing those first words lifted a weight from both of them.

 _On the young Healer who was attacked. He will survive, but his Gift is lost to us and sadly, so is much of his reason._

 _We have learned that this was the result of a feud between families. This was discovered by the Herald who did the investigation and confirmed under Truth Spell. The guilty have been punished according to their part – those who planned it, those who knew and failed to stop it, those who carried out the attack._

 _The two who held the sticks and gave the blows – twenty-five years hard labour, a term equal to the years of service a Healer could be expected to offer._

 _Those who planned it – their goods are seized and sold to pay for the care the lad will require from henceforth. If this leaves them homeless, so be it. Let them rely on the charity of their family, since they put their family so high above others._

 _Those who knew and did nothing to stop it – a fine equal to one-third their yearly money to be paid to the Healing temple. If they cannot pay, then they will labour at the temple at the standard day labour pay until the fine is paid._

 _I tell you this so you know that this is not part of your work._

 _When you return, I would send you east, if you would go. We believe the money and instructions to the carters comes from an estate in the east._

 _Be well, travel safe._

"That was…not what I expected." Cydris looked up at her husband.

"I agree. On the one hand, I'm glad its not related to us, on the other…what a waste over some damn fool's idiotic feud."

"I admit that while I'm not prone to violence, I can't say what I'd do if I had those two within reach," Cydris said grimly.

He squeezed her hand. "Enough, love. It's out of our hands and it's late. You need to rest. I'll bring Cellen when he wakes."

###

"Good morning Healer. How can I help?" Kyminn arrived shortly before morning sick call, noting the waiting room seemed to hold the usual guard post assortment of minor ailments.

Nedd was just as easygoing in the early morning as he had been the night before. Kyminn rather envied him the knack.

"If you have no objection, you could started with Private Ollen there." Nedd indicated one of the waiting men. "Will Healer Cydris be joining us?"

"She will, in a little bit. I'm afraid her days are run more on 'Cellen-time' than bells and candlemarks these days." The two men shared a rueful smile for the truth in that statement.

As they settled in to their tasks, Kyminn had to admit that part him missed the simple tasks of a Guard posting. Straightforward care, in a quiet setting – there was a certain appeal to it.

Cydris arrived when there was only a single soldier left. When she indicated for him to proceed her to the examination room, the man shook his head. "Healer, I was told to see Healer Nedd ma'am." She was just drawing breath to get firm with the fellow – this was far from the first patient who seemed to feel that women were a less satisfactory form of Healer – when the fellow spoke up again.

"No disrespect to you, Healer. But Nedd told me to see him and him only. It's my instructions, ma'am."

Well. That painted a different light on things. It didn't clear things up, but it did change her perspective.

"I'm sorry Cydris." Nedd hurried into the room, drying his hands as he came. "I didn't realize Corporal Stel would be here so quickly. I wanted to see him and present his case to you and Healer Kyminn. I'm hoping you can help out."

# # #

Kyminn and Cydris examined the blotches of red wheals that covered the Corporal's body. The patches were everywhere, but without pattern.

"They come and go. Sometimes for a day or so, other times for sennights. They can be very sore or very itchy." Nedd said. "We know it's not an allergy to the soap, or something he's wearing. Also, he's not the only one. There's a half dozen more, all from different squads. We've cleaned all the barracks, changed the bedding and everything they might come in contact with. To be honest, when it first cropped up in the fall, I prescribed a special cleansing soap. That actually seemed to make the flare ups much worse."

"Is it contagious?" Cydris was 'looking' at one of the patches.

"No. The only thing the patients have in common is that they come from more or less the same part of Valdemar – the south west. Different villages, backgrounds, families though. They aren't on the same trade road, didn't train at the same depot."

"And yet it's vaguely regional." Kyminn had a small device, much like the lens used by gem merchants to examine their stones, held up to his eye. He was examining some flakes of the Corporal's skin on a small piece of metal. He looked up. "It's not a mite or parasite." He didn't notice the soldier's expression of disgust – and relief – at his statement.

Kyminn looked at Cydris. "I thought maybe the condition from last summer, but this isn't even close."

"I agree." Cydris refocussed and looked at the other two. "This feels more like a sickness, an infection of some sort."

"A regional, seasonal, skin disease that prefers dirty skin? That's a new one on me," Kyminn admitted frankly. He gave the Corporal a reassuring smile. "I know that this feels pretty miserable and you've got a group of Healers throwing around strange notions. Whatever it is, it's not serious. I always make sure to tell my patients that they aren't going to die. In the mean time, we'll figure out how to treat this."

The soldier's "Thank you" was polite, and Kyminn couldn't blame him for the dubious note that crept into it.

# # #

It took the three of them, working together, to figure it out.

It was Cydris who noticed the rash had a similar 'feel' to the illness that sometimes struck adults who had had chicken pox in childhood.

It was Kyminn who figured out that all the patients had had a childhood fever that was common in that part of the country.

And it was Nedd who realized that the outbreak coincided with an outbreak of foot fungus as soon as bad weather drove them men to spend more time indoors.

In fighting the fungus, their bodies thought it was the adult version of the childhood illness. So long as there was something for their bodies to 'attack', the illness didn't flare up. Too much or too little and their bodies attacked themselves.

It took some trial and error, but they found a soap that cleaned without affecting the men's skin. That, along with some healing salve and a preventative lotion, finally brought the men some relief. It wasn't a cure, but it would do.

# # #

Kyminn turned back for one last wave to Nedd as the Guard house disappeared from sight. The Healer had promised to write up the case notes and send the information on to Healers to add to the Chronicles.

As for Nedd's other puzzling case, Kyminn and Cydris had been unable to answer the question as to why a young guardswoman couldn't seem to stop herself from eating strange things. Dirt, grass, sawdust, soap, leaves – even some horseshoe nails. Several times Nedd had had to treat the woman for the distress that followed these episodes.

After ruling out a dietary need or other imbalance, Kyminn and Cydris could only suggest the services of a mind-healer as they could find no medical cause for the behaviour. Nedd had promised to look into it.

"Are you glad to be headed back to Oakden?" Kyminn pulled up beside Cydris.

"I am. I certainly enjoyed visiting Nedd and the work, but I've learned I'm not yet ready to go back full time yet." Cydris admitted.

"I wish we'd been able to do more for that poor guardswoman. Nedd says he'll find the closest Mind-Healer and makes sure she gets the treatment she needs." Kyminn glanced down into his jacket to meet Cellen's gaze. His son was awake and seemed quite happy to rest against his father's chest, rocking with the easy motion of the horse beneath them.

"The mind is a strange thing. At least we helped with the one case."

"True. One mystery solved. One terrible one left."


	32. Chapter 32

"Son, are you sure you don't want to wait a fortnight or so?" Berrin wondered aloud as he passed a smoked ham up to where Kyminn stood in the back of the wagon.

Kyminn took the ham from his father and hung it from the arc of the wagon-bow. "Well," he said as he deftly looped the cord through an eyehook, "I admit that the weather isn't the best, and Cellen's colic isn't going to improve things, but this request from the Healer at Forst Reach is going to extend our journey and we're expected back in Haven for early summer, so…" A shrug.

"Aye." Berrin sighed and slung up a cask of dried meat. "But we're only in fourth moon. There's still snow and you're liable to hit more than a few spring storms. It's not a good season to travel."

Kyminn smiled down at his father. It was gratifying to see his father so concerned, although Kyminn had a feeling that there was more than a bit of Keli's worries in Berrin's words. "I know, and I – we – appreciate your concern. But it's more to the end of fourth moon and we'll be going south, into spring rather than heading into the tail end of winter. I know you don't want to hear me say this, but we've travelled in much worse than this. We're prepared and we're careful. Not only do I promise we won't take any foolish risks, I pledge you we will try to avoid any case where we might have to take even a _calculated_ risk. Will that do?"

Berrin's noncommittal grunt as he wrestled the next sack onto the wagon bed spoke volumes. "I imagine it'll have to, now won't it?"

The two men worked in companionable silence for the next sun widths, and watching Kyminn's make practiced use of every possible nook and cranny, Berrin had to admit that his son certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

"Those younglings of yours are going to miss being here." Berrin observed as he pointed to where Ansen and some other boys were involved in some sort of contest with slings.

Kyminn sat down, legs dangling over the wagon-tail as he watched his son. There was real regret in his response. "I know. I truly do hate to drag them away. I think that aside from the Tedrel winter camps, this is the longest they've ever stayed in one place. It's certainly the longest they've been settled _and_ safe."

"Son," Berrin hesitated, leaning up against the wagon to regard his son. "It's never been mine and your mother's practice to interfere with how our children raise their own families. The Mother knows how often your mum has had to bite her tongue over the years on that score! As long as the littles are healthy, happy and with a decent amount of manners, we've held our peace." Berrin snorted in memory. "I remember when your sister had her first. Talk about an indulged babe! I thought we'd have to set the child into the woods, so wild was he! But…she knew what she was about – or she learned, at any rate. She put checks on that boy so quiet and gentle that I'm not sure he even noticed, and now he's as nice a lad as one could wish, with no more fuss than one might expect."

"Are you worried for our children?" Kyminn cocked his head. It wasn't defensive – Kyminn was prepared to listen, and take any implied criticism with a grain of salt. Much as he loved and respected his father, Kyminn felt no need to assure his father's approval.

"Nah." Berrin gave a dismissive wave of one hand. "Not a'tall. I just wonder if you ever do plan to settle down some day. From all you've said, those kids have had little peace and surety so far. I just wonder if you've thought about maybe all this travel might…I don't know…slow their chance to see Valdemar as home. You know, if it's all just one more length of road and not really a place, and people?"

A slow smile. "That's a question that has had a lot of people weighing in on. Would you be surprised if I told you that it was something the Empaths and Mindhealers gave a lot of consideration to in the early days?"

Berrin blinked a bit in surprise. "It would, actually. It shouldn't – it's not like I don't see Gifts being used. I suppose I just never thought of using talents like that on something so…"

"Boring as making sure a gaggle of orphans were happy?" Kyminn grinned. "Look at it from the Queen's perspective. Over 1000 children, coming from gods know where, raised gods know how. Within a few bare sennights, most of them are spreading out across the country, settling into the homes of her nobles, her Healers, her Guard. Now picture what would happen if those children proved unable to adapt, or if people made the wrong assumptions about what they needed. Would they be turned out? Mistreated?" Kyminn shrugged and shook his head. "Frankly, a _lot_ of Healers worried about just that. So, a lot of very smart people worked very hard on the matter."

Kyminn paused and watched his son. Some of the boys were arguing – probably about whose shot was closest to the mark. Ansen was watching, finally interjecting a few calm words. Whatever his son said seemed to have worked, for the arguing stopped and the boys resumed their game.

"We learned that the children are able to form very strong bonds – unexpectedly able, given their backgrounds. So long as we respect their _existing_ bonds, they are quite capable of forming new ones." Kyminn looked back at his father. "As long as we stay together, it really doesn't matter to the children where we are – or what we are doing. Cydris and I both feel very strongly that having our children see so much of Valdemar, and so many sorts of people and places, has given them a very good foundation in understanding what – and who – Valdemar is."

"Huh." Berrin scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I must say, it's a bit odd to hear you speak with such authority on a matter that isn't to do with beasts. You've done a bit of growing up in the past five years son." The older man paused, and this time there was a faint, plaintive note in his question. "But must you really go now? Surely this Healer could call on others if he needs help so badly!"

Kyminn clapped his father on the back. "Yes, he could. And I'll imagine he has. But it's quite a professional courtesy to be asked back to follow up on a difficult case and we're quite flattered to be asked. Add that the request was endorsed by Lord Caridoc and…" he spread his hands helplessly.

"Ah. Well. Yes. If a Lord asks, I suppose you cannot decline." Berrin nodded reluctant acquiescence.

# # #

"Cydris, you've enough of the anise oil?" Anya gestured to her granddaughter-in-law's gear.

"I do, and enough of the herbs to mix it with." A tired smile. "It seems to be the only thing that eases Cellen's colic."

"It will pass," Anya reminded her. "It just feels as though it will last three years."

"I know. And I've told lots of mothers the same, but…"

"…It's completely different when it's your own child." Anya's smile was understanding. "I would tell you how this will make you a better Healer, give you a new understanding, but the truth is that right now, you're just an exhausted parent."

The older woman paused, then gently rested her hands on Cydris's arms. "I have every confidence that you will do well, you and Kyminn." She looked over to where Kyminn was saying his own goodbyes to a crowd of well-wishers. "I wonder sometimes if I didn't serve Kyminn badly when I trained him."

Cydris didn't pretend not to understand. "Haven and the Collegium?"

"Aye. My Gift being what it is, I always felt on the outside, like I wasn't seen as a real Healer because I couldn't knit flesh and bone together with it. I didn't want that to happen to my grandson, to feel second-class because his Gifts aren't traditional Healing gifts. I tried not to pass my prejudices on to him, but I know I did. I admit I was always glad that he never asked to go to Haven for training."

"I would say," Cydris said slowly, "that if you held him back to remain here, then it wasn't to his loss. He has always, so long as I have known him, been comfortable with his skills and Gifts. I think, had you actually ill-served him, he would not have gone with Randen and the others back to Haven. He'd have found another way, even if it meant going nine-tenths of the way and turning the case over to another Healer. No, I would say that people make decisions they sometimes reconsider, but that yours turned out well in the end."

Anya's smile was dry. "That's kind of you to say. But, be that as it may, just know that he may be fragile sometimes and he will need you." Anya's sudden hug was startling. "My dear, never tell him this, but I think of all my grandchildren, he made the best choice in spouses. You were not what I would have expected, but you are exactly what he needs. He is lucky to have you."

Cydris didn't trust herself to speak and simply hugged the older Healer back.

# # #

"A least we're in the middle of the wilderness," Kyminn muttered sourly. He hadn't meant to say the words aloud and he immediately regretted them having slipped out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cydris had to raise her voice over their son's wails and her tone was dangerously calm. Between the bitter spring weather and Cellen's colic, the journey had been thoroughly miserable.

"If we were at an inn, or a camp spot, we'd probably be asked to leave," her husband growled. "Are you _sure_ there's nothing wrong with him?" He kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, noting how the horses flicked their ears at the noise. At least it wasn't raining. For once.

"For the hundredth time, yes, I'm sure! Do you think I haven't checked and double checked? I'm surprised I haven't drained my Gift trying to see if there is something ailing this child! He . !"

Kyminn rubbed his temples, wondering if the threatened headache could be staved off. "Is there anything…?"

"That I haven't already done? Why no, husband. I thought it would be entertaining to just sit here and listen to our child scream. I'll tell you what. Since I'm clearly doing such a terrible job, _you_ take him!" and with that, she thrust the squalling child into Kyminn's arms, flouncing – and yes, it was definitely a flounce – into the rear of the wagon.

Kyminn wanted to shout after her, but didn't trust himself not to say something irrevocable. Trying to ignore his crying child, he set his Gift to flitting from bird to bird, seeking a clearing or even a widening in the road where they could stop for the day. There! Three miles up the road, an old woodcutter's track. Overgrown now, but open enough for them to get off the road.

It was a very long three miles, made even longer when he got the wagon backed into the clearing and Cydris failed to appear to help set up camp.

The children hopped down to help, not needing to be told their chores. Kyminn silently fumed as he hobbled around, struggling to set up camp and toting his crying child while Cydris sulked in the wagon. Kyminn told himself he was respecting her need for privacy when he opted to cook dinner in the open air, rather than on the little stove in the back of the wagon, but he knew it was his annoyance making excuses. Let her come to them.

"Da." Ansen reached for Cellen. "I'll take care of him."

"No." Kyminn snapped.

"Yes." It was surprisingly firm. "My brother. My responsibility."

"No. My son, _my_ responsibility." Kyminn tried to keep the anger out of his response.

"But he's my brother. I'm responsible for him." Ansen was seldom angry and this stubbornness was new. And very unwelcome to boot.

Kyminn wanted to snarl. This was a lousy time for yet another Tedrel-Valdemaran culture clash and an even worse time for his normally obedient son to suddenly become defiant.

" _I_ am the parent. Caring for and raising you children is _my_ job, not yours." At least it came out mostly firm instead of completely surly.

"So, I do nothing for my brother?" Ansen sounded indignant. Mehrhet and Niyeh, drawn by the argument, drifted over to listen.

"Yes, you do…just…not this…" Kyminn floundered, exasperation heaped on top of his annoyance.

"Then what?" Ansen demanded.

Kyminn tried to answer. 'Play with him'. 'Hold him', 'Teach him' – all the things older siblings did for their younger. How to explain the difference between that and this?

"It is a parent's duty to take care of you. When you are hungry, it should be your parents who make sure there is food, and prepare it for you. Your parents should make sure you have clean clothes to wear and someplace safe to sleep. You should not have to find these things for yourself." He tried to push his anger to the background as he tried to get through to Ansen.

"You should _learn_ to do these things, a little bit at a time as you grow. As you get older, you become responsible for more and more things so that when you are an adult, you can be responsible for yourself.

"When you joined our family, there was no one in your life to do these things for you. You had to be like adults – responsible for everything. But now, you can play, and learn. If you make a mistake, or don't work so hard, you don't have to worry about going hungry, because that's not your responsibility any more."

The girls looked baffled, but Ansen just looked frustrated. "But you _need_ my help!" He gestured to the still-crying baby.

Kyminn struggled, caught in a conundrum. On the one hand, having someone else take Cellen would be incredibly helpful as he tried to get dinner started. On the other, he was loath offload his parental responsibility onto his son.

Finally, with a sigh, Kyminn acknowledged defeat. He unslung the fabric carrier and held it while Ansen slipped it on. "Thank you, I appreciate your help," and he meant it.

Ansen gave one of his rare smiles. "I like helping with Cellen." He adjusted the sling so that Cellen was lying nearly flat. With one arm cradled under his brother, Ansen rubbed Cellen's tummy, humming as he walked.

By the time the small loaves of meat were baked and the vegetables mashed, Cellen was quiet, eyelids drooping as Ansen walked with him. Whether it was something in the older boy's technique or the child had simply worn himself out at last, Kyminn wasn't about to question the result.

Kyminn carefully took the drowsy infant back from Ansen, adjusting the sling as little as possible. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Ansen shrugged as he cut off a chunk of the seasoned meat and forked it onto his plate. "Rheese cried a lot. One of the camp mothers showed me how to hold him."

"Who's Rheese?" Kyminn scooped out servings for the girls.

"My brother. He was before Niyeh came." Ansen busied himself with his meal. "He died." He said it casually, as though one might remark that the day was somewhat cloudy.

Kyminn choked on his bite of food. Fighting to match Ansen's tone, he said, "I'm sorry. You must miss him." He wanted to dart over and hug his son, but he held back. Something told Kyminn to refrain and in doing so, to acknowledge that this was a pain that Ansen had released.

Ansen looked thoughtful. "I did for a while. But its alright. He can't be hurt, so that's good. It was from before you came, so it's over now."

Kyminn could think of nothing to say to that.

# # #

Cellen was, thankfully, still sleeping. The older children were occupied with some project involving string and beads. Dinner was all cleaned up aside from a covered dish that he had set aside for Cydris.

Cydris. Who had _still_ refused to appear from their curtained off alcove of the wagon. The anger which had been banked during the intense conversations with Ansen rekindled. It was time – and past time – to have some words with his wife.

"Cydris?" the back of the wagon was dim in the lamplight. He carried her dinner in one hand. Not a peace offering, no, but a gesture of magnanimity, that he could be the bigger person.

Sullen silence answered him.

Glowering, he limped to the alcove and twitched the curtains aside, glaring into the dark interior.

His wife lay awkwardly, head tilted to one side. Tracks on her cheeks told him she had cried herself to sleep.

His anger disappeared, running out like water from a shattered vessel, now to be replaced by guilt at his harsh words and hard-held fury. Gently, carefully, he straightened her limbs, settling her into a more comfortable position. Tucking blankets around her, Kyminn realized that he couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a decent rest.

# # #

"Kyminn?" the voice was thick with sleep.

"Mmhm?" He opened one eye.

Cydris knelt in their bed, head emerging from the curtains like a puppet in a show. She seemed very confused as to why her husband was propped up in a corner of the sparse open floor space, buried under a heap of blankets.

"How long have I been asleep? Where's Cellen?" She rubbed her eyes.

Kyminn looked at the night candle, enclosed in its metal bracket and firmly screwed high on the side of one of the wagon bows.

"About six candlemarks," he said softly. "Cellen's here." Kyminn lifted a flap of the blanket to reveal their son, sound asleep in his sling.

"Oh." There was silence for a moment. "Kyminn…"

"We were neither of us at our best," he whispered back. "Go back to sleep. We're both sorry. I'll let you know when Cellen needs you."


	33. Chapter 33

_A/N: I encountered an error with respect to naming. It turns out I had duplicated character names as well as changing spelling mid-story. I apologize for this and want you to know that I have – I believe – made all the needed corrections. Kyminn and Cydris's son is named Cellen. C-E-L-L-E-N. It is pronounced as though the C is hard, so like Kellen._

 _"Colleagues,_

 _I am writing to extend an invitation to attend here at Forst Reach in order that you might consult on a matter relating to one of your patients here._

 _I am pleased to report that all of our patients have recovered well, but I believe there may be an opportunity for further improvements for the mason Nils Gebb. It is my hope that your combined experiences in rehabilitative techniques might advance his condition._

 _It is my understanding that you intend to return to Haven sometime in early to mid-summer. While I am not privy to any instruction you may have received from our Circle, I should tell you that I have advised them that I will be requesting your services for this consultation. I hope you do not take it amiss that I have done so. The Herald Courier assured me that she will place my letter directly before the Dean._

 _I realize that this request extends your travels somewhat and I expect that travelling with a babe in arms will be challenging. Allow me to express my congratulations on your new arrival who, I trust, has arrived safely._

 _As you well know, the fastest means of response would be by your own hand, so I will not expect one sooner. I will simply await your arrival. If it happens that neither yourselves nor some other note has not arrived by midsummer, I will assume that the Circle has had greater need of your services._

 _Yours,_

 _Healer Gaige Ledsell_

 _Forst Reach_

Kyminn's father hadn't seemed the least bit surprised when the Herald-Courier had delivered Gaige's note. While the region counted themselves fortunate to see a Herald twice a year, Berrin apparently took it at face value that his son – working in the mysterious and rarified world of Haven – would get messages delivered by a Herald-Courier who 'just happened' to be in the area. Kyminn hadn't pointed out that no, Herald-Couriers don't deliver the mail like common postmen.

While the incident had earned Kyminn a good deal of respect in his father's eyes, it had had a quite different effect on Kyminn and Cydris.

 _"I should tell you that I have advised them that I will be requesting your services for this consultation… The Herald Courier assured me… I will assume that the Circle has had greater need of your services…"_

Not only did Tannel and the rest of the Healer's Circle endorse this 'invitation', the involvement of more than one Herald-Courier moved it from 'request' to 'order'. The last sentence only served to underscore the point – unless they heard differently, they were expected to report to Forst Reach.

Had there been even a smidgen of doubt, the letter which accompanied Gaige's invitation put a stake through the heart of that smidgen and then set it over the fire to roast.

 _"To Healers Kyminn Danner and Cydris Danner,_

 _From Caridoc, Earl Forst Reach_

 _Greetings_

 _Healer Ledsell advises me that he has invited you to consult with him on certain matters related to Healing. I am recalled of the very able service you provided in this area in times past and I concur that your contributions on such matters would be welcomed by myself and my estate._

 _I am further reminded of other services you have performed for my House and I would have you know that I have commended you to your superiors._

(Flattering, but Kyminn wasn't sure how Tannel would take it that they had drawn the attention – for good or ill – of Lord Ashkevron.)

 _As you – as do I – serve the pleasure of the Crown, and cognizant that I cannot compel your presence, I have been assured by the Herald-Courier…_

(The Herald-Courier again.)

 _…that she will place my request directly before the Circle, wherein I have formally requested from the Crown your attendance on this matter._

(There it was. Staked and set on fire.)

 _I and my House await your arrival._

 _By mine own hand,_

 _Ashkevron_

Crap. Crap crap crappity crap. This hadn't even gone through Lord Caridoc's secretary.

All of this served to explain why Kyminn and his family had abruptly departed Oakden and were now bare leagues from Forst Reach.

"I wonder…" Kyminn started.

"I'm going to stop you right there. We've spent the past moon parsing, dissecting and analyzing both letters. If you had thought it might help, I'm sure you would have held them over a candle until they confessed. We don't know why Lord Caridoc wants us. I think you can safely assume it's not as a midwife to the latest generation of horseflesh, but that's about it."

Cydris said this all with the resigned tone of someone who has talked an issue to death. At least their anger with each other was long since resolved. It helped that Cellen's episodes of colic were lessening, although it appeared that their son now believed that sleep was for the weak. The child seemed to take fiendish delight in being awake at the most outlandish of hours.

Kyminn started to respond, then sighed. His wife was right. They had a myriad of guesses, but no real information.

# # #

Forst Reach had changed little since their departure, although it was clear that construction on the collapsed section had resumed. This time, there was no galloping into the courtyard or rush to treat patients.

This arrival was far more orderly, with servants offering them a chance to clean up before seeing Lord Caridoc. The children were more than happy to reunite with the youngsters from their last visit and there was even a young maid assigned to care for Cellen.

# # #

"Lord Caridoc." Kyminn and Cydris offered their host formal bows of greeting.

"Welcome, both of you. Sit!" Caridoc gestured to the now-familiar study. Both sat gratefully, glad of something beneath their buttocks besides the barely padded wagon bench.

Caridoc turned to Cydris first. "Good day to you, Healer. May I offer my congratulations? You and the babe are well, I take it?"

A faint blush. "Thank you, my Lord. We are both well, yes."

"And tell me – a foal or a filly?" His eyes twinkled.

She laughed. "A son, my Lord. Cellen."

Caridoc nodded. "Congratulations to you both then." Niceties attended to, he turned his attention to Kyminn.

"Welcome back, Healer."

A nod. "Thank you, my Lord. You have been very generous with your hospitality."

The lord of Forst Reach settled back in his chair, his eyes flicking between his two guests. "And you're wondering why I went to such lengths to make sure you accepted my invitation."

"Honestly? Very much so." Kyminn's gesture took in himself and Cydris. "We are of course more than happy to offer any assistance we can with Master Gebb, but there are other, closer Healers who probably could have done the same. And, if I may continue to be honest, my Lord, requests like that don't usually involve Herald-Couriers and our Dean."

"Exactly so. On the matter of Nils Gebb – Gaige assures me that he really does wish to consult with you. That matter will be your first task tomorrow. As for the rest of it…"

Lord Caridoc was troubled. "Lady Devra and I, along with Healer Gaige, had several discussions over the winter regarding Gaven. The question, of course, was what was best for our son. Eventually, Lady Devra and I agreed that the best choice would be for him to train at the Collegium. Accordingly, I instructed Gaige to write a letter to the Dean, advising him that Gaven would be enrolling as a Trainee."

Caridoc paused, then carried on. His eyes never left Kyminn's as he spoke. "I received a letter back from the Dean. To say I was surprised to see the Herald-Courier would be an understatement. I will read you the relevant passages."

The Lord pulled a well-worn letter from inside his jacket and smoothed it on his lap. Clearing his voice self-consciously, he read aloud:

 _"Your son would be a most welcome addition to our ranks…It would be advantageous if Trainee Ashkevron were to depart as soon as weather permits, so as to allow him to arrive by the end of fifth moon. That would allow him to begin his classes at the same time as the rest of his year group._

 _…we would expect, of course, that your son would be travelling with such retainers, guards and servants as befit his station. We encourage you to afford him this courtesy on his journey, but would respectfully remind you that he will have to forego these amenities once he has enrolled as a Trainee."_

Caridoc simply regarded the two Healers expectantly. Kyminn and Cydris exchanged glances, puzzled.

"My Lord," Kyminn's brow was furrowed. "That is… very strange advice."

"It is, isn't it?" Caridoc agreed. "I assure you though, that the _additional_ advice I received from the Herald was even more interesting."

# #

 _"My Lord," the Herald leaned forward, the firelight giving her Whites a golden glow. "What you hold in your hand is the Healing Circle's official response to the news that your son intend to enroll in the Collegium. What I convey to you now is the Circle's unofficial response._

 _"My Lord, do not send your son to Haven at this time."_

 _Caridoc didn't bother to hide his surprise. "Why not?"_

 _The Herald shook her head slowly. "My Lord, we have reason to believe that there may be a…degree of risk…if your son departs as expected."_

 _"Risk? What kind of risk? And from whom?" Anger – and fear – gave the words a bite._

 _"My Lord, we do not know, and this troubles us. I presume that you have certain sources, means of intelligence from within the Court and elsewhere?" The Herald took Caridoc's jerk of chin as a yes. "Tell me, Lord Caridoc, are you aware of anyone who might pose a threat to you or your son?"_

 _Caridoc's gaze drifted off as he examined the Herald's question. Finally, reluctantly, he shook his head. "I do not. Oh, I'll admit that I can think of my fellows who wouldn't hesitate to undercut me for a commercial contract, or more than a few who I think – and have told as much – as have their heads up their arses when it comes to what's best for this part of Valdemar, but to kill? No, Herald. No one who I oppose has that level of anger or hate towards me or mine. Or if they do, I've not heard of it. I take it the Heralds_ have _such a source?"_

 _A headshake. "Not in the kind of source we could share with you my Lord, if that's what you were asking. You have a Healer here and, of course, more than a few notable Gifted ancestors. I take it you are not unfamiliar with the idea?"_

 _Caridoc gave a wry grimace, "Herald Ylsa, would it surprise you if I were to tell you that the Reach library contains nearly every volume written regarding Heralds Savil, Vanyel, Bard Medren and the other notable figures from this line? I would hazard a guess that not only do we have one of the most complete collections of books about Heralds outside of Haven, but I have read every one of them."_

 _Herald Ylsa looked faintly relieved. "Then you've heard of Foresight, then."_

 _Caridoc found his neck prickling and the hair on his nape rising. In spite of seeing Gaige, Cydris and Kyminn's Gifts in action on several occasions, it was quite another thing to know that someone in the far distant capital was having visions of his family._

 _"My Lord, all we know is that, should your son depart as planned, he may be in danger."_

 _"How much danger?" Caridoc's voice was unexpectedly hoarse._

 _A brief hesitation, then the truth. "Grave danger, milord. Very grave danger."_

 _Grief choked him and Caridoc struggled to contain it._

 _"My Lord!" Ylsa reached out with the authority and temerity only a Herald can exert and clasped the Lord's arm. "A Foresight is never assured! I was sent to convey this information in order that this attack could be averted!"_

 _"Averted? How?" He seized on the possibility._

 _Ylsa released his arm and sat back. "Lord Caridoc, I am not sure." She shook her head to cut off his protests. "Foresight is seldom clear milord. At its best, it offers a warning of what_ may _happen. Seldom does it show what_ must _happen._

 _"In this case, we know that your son leaves for Haven at winter's end. Somewhere on the way, he and his retinue will be attacked – with devastating result. The Foresight also suggests that there is greater safety if your son waits."_

 _"Waits for what? If someone is waiting along the track to attack my son, I don't see how a delay would change the outcome."_

 _"For a Healer, milord. Kyminn Danner, to be precise."_

 _Caridoc gaped at the Herald. Surely, she must be mistaken! "Herald, surely you must be mistaken! While I have the greatest respect for the Healer, I cannot fathom how you Heralds can see him as a fit defender for my son! You are aware that he is crippled, yes?"_

 _The Herald's smile was sharp. "We are quite aware, thank you. Nonetheless, the Foresight was clear – your son, alive, in the company of a Healer with a scarred face and twisted leg. I assure you, Lord Caridoc, that there is only one Healer who fits that description. As to_ why _that particular Healer, that I could not say. I can only tell you what the Foresight showed – your son, dead in late spring and your son, along with Kyminn Danner, alive in summer."_

 _The Lord of Forst Reach recoiled in shock and confusion. "You're sure?"_

 _"We are, milord. As sure as one can be, given the paucity of detail."_

 _"Herald…" he paused and sorted through the words. "This is…beyond anything I have encountered. What would you recommend? How do I save my son?"_

 _The Herald-Courier's smile was savage. "As to that, my Lord, we were thinking of a tempting bait, a decoy, if you will."_

 _"But a bait that bites back…" the Lord nodded in understanding, his smile equally savage._

# #

Caridoc finished his recounting of the extraordinary conversation and withdrew a second parchment from his vest. "The Herald instructed that I was to send for you and give you this."

'This' was a second letter, this time with an unbroken seal. The outside said simply 'Kyminn', in Tannel's hand.

Uneasy, Kyminn broke the seal. Wordlessly, he extracted the single strand of Companion hair from the wax and set it aside gently. No-one could have falsified that, not where Kyminn's Gifts were concerned.

 _Kyminn,_

 _The Healer of Forst Reach advises me that there is a prospective Trainee at the Reach, that this young man will come to Haven in the spring._

 _As near as we can tell, the same instant that I picked up Healer Ledsell's letter, one of the Heralds received a Foresight._

\- _The Herald saw a slain group of servants and a well-born young man. The dead were in the woods and the trees were in new leaf._

\- _The Herald saw the same young man, alive this time, riding pillion with you. The trees were in full leaf._

\- _Lastly, the Herald saw you battling a hooded figure. The Herald said that she felt death near you as you fought._

 _Kyminn, as you know all too well, Foresight shows what MAY be, not what WILL be. What it seems to be telling us is that if you are not involved, the young Healer will die. If you ARE involved, there may be a death, but it is not yet certain._

 _It is my hope that the instructions conveyed to Lord Caridoc have enabled him to take the steps needed to protect his son. Bring the boy – bring all of you – home safe to Haven._

Kyminn's throat was suddenly dry. "My Lord, where is Gaven now?"

Caridoc's silence lingered. Then, "My son is, as everyone knows, on his way to Haven. He left about three sennights ago. He is accompanied by a small but able group of guardsmen and a few servants."

Kyminn raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Given what the Lord had said previously, it was clear that Gaven Ashkevron was nowhere near that group of travellers.

A faint nod confirmed the unspoken question. Caridoc said blandly, "As you will be returning to Haven in the near future and have proven yourselves very able in the past, I would hire you to perform a small service for me. You see, I have arranged a position for my game-keeper's son on Lord Vecchio's estate. Lord Vecchio is an old friend and his current game-keeper has no apprentice. Mine has a surfeit of sons and this lad is very capable. A decade or so from now and the fellow will be able to take over the job."

"And where is Lord Vecchio's estate, my Lord?" Cydris threw Kyminn a sharp glance.

"As it turns out, it's just east of Haven. It's not out of your way at all. Perhaps on your journey you can help introduce the lad to what might be expected of him in terms of the…people and tasks…he might be expected to undertake."

Kyminn blinked as the copper dropped. "I see. Of course, my Lord. We would be pleased to assist with your gamekeeper's son." He paused and then said thoughtfully, "As to your son's travels…I take it he is well protected against any…mischance?"

A faint shrug. "It seems to me that roads are more chancy than they used to be, what with so many of the Guard taken to the war. It may be a year or two before all the rogues are cleared out. I didn't see much point in sending armsmen AND servants – just more targets to protect if you ask me. Everyone that went – even my 'son' – is well able to defend himself. I reckon anyone who has designs on my folk will discover they've bitten a wormy apple."

A profound bow. "In that case, My Lord, with your son in good hands, we would of course do you this small service."


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N For those of you who are reading as each chapter is posted, I want to let you know that I have made substantial revisions to the second half of Chapter 33. I wasn't happy with how it was structured and I realized that I'd left too many details in my head and not enough on the page. I strongly recommend that you re-read the conversation in Caridoc's study before moving on to this chapter._

"That was…" Cydris didn't bother to finish the sentence.

"Yes. Wasn't it though?" The odd conversation concluded, Kyminn and Cydris found themselves once again in the hallway. Kyminn gave Cydris's hand a squeeze, half in reassurance, half in warning as a she began to speak. She paused, then nodded her understanding.

"What are your plans?" She glanced at the light – there were still a few candlemarks left in the afternoon.

"I'm going to see if I can't find Gaige and make arrangements for tomorrow. Would you mind finding out what the children are up to?"

"Not at all. I think that would be wise. Once that's done, I'll ask if Lady Devra would be willing to see me and I can follow up on the patients from our last visit." She didn't need to add 'And see if she's willing to talk'. Her parting peck on the cheek was habitual, but warm nonetheless.

Kyminn reasoned that unlike a noble's house in Haven, Forst Reach was more of a 'working estate' than a city home might be. Finding a page or hall-boy sitting around waiting for a task seemed unlikely, so Kyminn headed for the one place there were sure to be servants about – the kitchens.

His guess proved correct and once he started moving towards that nexus, he encountered a housemaid in fairly short order. She didn't know where the Healer was, but she knew someone who did. Which was why, a short time later, Kyminn found himself carefully picking his way through scaffolded hallways to the construction site.

"Kyminn!" Gaige's grin emerged from the Healer's dust-streaked face. "Welcome! I'm glad you came!" The handclasp Gaige offered was hearty and sincere.

"Thank you, I think." Kyminn smiled in return. "What brings you out here? Not more trouble, I hope!"

A determined headshake. "No, none of that. We're being much more careful now in terms of bracing, testing mortar – that sort of thing." He grimaced. "Isn't it always the way that we only decide there's a better way _after_ something bad happens?"

"Too true, sadly. But if you're not needed, then why are you out here?" Kyminn's wave took in the neat piles of rubble and the canvas awning shielding the worksite.

"A terrible case of curiosity mostly," the Healer admitted. "It turns out that last year's 'secret room' wasn't the first interesting thing we've encountered."

"Oh?" Kyminn was intrigued.

"Indeed. For starters, the 'secret room' wasn't actually a room. It was an abandoned stretch of hallway. We think it was meant to connect to this tower. The old drawings show that there was a solar there."

Kyminn examined the old tower. To his untrained eye, it looked stable enough, the ancient shutter frames showing snaggle-toothed gaps. He noted that the workmen spent considerable time bracing the outer wall and examining the mortar before starting to unbrick the sealed doorway. He flashed a grin at Gaige, the suspense of the moment infecting them both.

"Ah!" The shout went up from the crew as the last brick tumbled clear. To Kyminn's surprise, no one dashed forward to enter. Instead, careful measurements were taken with plumb line and angle. Kyminn gave Gaige a questioning look.

"They measured before they started. This is to make sure there hasn't been any shifting when they changed the structure. They will also tap to see if there are any gaps. They are also letting it air out. There can be a lot of dust and rot in some of these old spaces."

After what seemed like forever, lanterns were lit and the crew, Healers in tow, entered the newly revealed space. It had been, as the records indicated, a lady's solar at one point in the very distant past. Now, leaves and faded tatters of fabric formed drifts of detritus on the floor. One worker inadvertently trod on what remained of a pillow and coughed at the resulting cloud of dust.

Someone knocked the rotting shutters out of the windows, flooding the room with light. Here and there, a lone pane of glass offered a prism to highlight the motes dancing in the sunbeams. As the workers began their examinations, Kyminn and Gaige explored, carefully peering into cabinets and shelves. Most of the contents were unrecognizable, but here and there a bobbin emerged, along with some needles so tarnished they seemed like nails.

"Look at this Kyminn," Gaige beckoned from where he was poking at the bench seat beneath the window.

The Healer was carefully not leaning on the seat, large holes in the wood testifying to the structure's fragility. Suddenly, the Healer dropped to his knees, peering into a space where a fallen panel revealed a small opening.

"It looks like," Gaige murmured as he dropped to his belly and shone a light into the gap, "like this wall used to have a closet. It was closed off when the window seat was installed." He peered into the darkness and gave a rumbling chuckle. One hand reached in and extracted a small stack of books. "I have a feeling we found someone's hiding place."

Kyminn bent down and followed the lamplight. "I can see a small child fitting in there easily. Judging from the candle stubs and whatnot, I'd say he or she had a cozy little nest here."

Gaige climbed to his feet. "Indeed. Out of sight and probably getting an earful of gossip from the ladies of the solar!" His eyes twinkled at the thought. He passed one of the books to Kyminn and peered a the other two. "The covers are too faded to read the titles. From the little bit of colour remaining, I'd say these are story books of some kind."

Kyminn tilted his book, _Herald-Mage Lakkas and the Rescue at Twin Rivers_ and squinted at the faded title. "Herald Lakkas and the Rescue at Twin Rivers," he read. "It even has a drawing of a Companion. Looks like some things never change – inspiring tales of heroic Heralds and their daring adventures!"

The two Healers shared a smile for childish tales. Kyminn attempted to gently separate the covers of the book, but grimaced as the binding fell apart in his hands. With a rueful sigh, he tossed the unreadable tale into the bin of trash. "Too bad. I don't think I've read that one."

"Not to worry. So long as there are Heralds, there will be stories written about them," Gaige reminded him.

Kyminn remained observing for another candlemark or so, but when it became clear that no other secrets would emerge today, he excused himself with a promise to meet Gaige the following day.

SCENE BREAK

Although Cellen had been reasonably cooperative in terms of sleeping, Caridoc's news had left both Kyminn and Cydris restless with uncertainty and the morning found them both worn. It was almost a relief to be able to direct all of their attention on the mason Nils Gebb. The man had recovered well, but the injured arm remained weak. Of particular concern was the inability of the mason to hold a chisel firmly enough for the mallet strike. It was Gaige's hope that they could change that.

"I was reading the Journals," Gaige began. Kyminn and Cydris nodded. The Journals were sent out to all Healers twice a year. In addition to news of postings, retirements and the like, the Journals contained information on new techniques, issues, problems and interesting cases. For Healers who might never return to Haven after getting their Greens, it gave them a chance to keep abreast of their calling. While it wasn't uncommon for more distant Healers to receive a Journal a year or more after it was written, the information was seldom wasted and the news always welcome.

"At any rate, there was a case that I thought relevant, some new techniques on reconstructing limbs after serious insult." A grim smile. "The war gave us plenty of opportunities in that area."

Cydris nodded understanding as Kyminn skimmed the proffered page. He didn't recognize the author, but they'd both seen the technique demonstrated often enough. Kyminn looked up, "I think you're right that this will help. It's just a question of making sure we know which muscles and nerves are going to be affected."

Kyminn looked at their patient. The man appeared more curious than afraid, the weakened hand tucked self-consciously in his lap.

"Mason Gebb, Healer Gaige believes – as do we – that we may be able to give you more strength in that arm. It won't ever be as it was I'm afraid, but we think we can do somewhat better. But first we have to do a very thorough examination." Kyminn's smile was reassuring. "It won't make much sense, the things we'll be asking you to do, but I promise it will help us to help you."

"Will it hurt?" The mason didn't seem perturbed by the idea.

"It shouldn't." A headshake. "But without knowing how your nerves have healed, I can't promise. I will say that it's not _supposed_ to hurt and if it does, we'll stop immediately." Kyminn paused, "I apologize in advance because it's going to seem like we're talking about you like you can't hear us. It would be like one of us listening to you explaining oh…say how a seam of crystal in a stone will change how the piece shatters. It would make sense to another mason, but leave one of us in the dust."

A phlegmatic shrug. "Not to bother, Healer. I know there's things I don't ken. I'm alright with the not knowing. But I must know – this thing you propose – will it make things worse?"

It was Gaige's turn to answer, for this man was, ultimately his responsibility. "It's a possibility. Any Healing or surgery can go amiss. I will pledge to you that if we think that there's no reasonable chance of success, we won't proceed. As well, we'll make sure you understand exactly what we intend before we do anything, nor will we do anything without your consent. Agreed?"

Agreed.

For the next while, the mason sat, bemused, while the Healers asked him to do a long list of nonsensical things. Gaige and Cydris sat, staring into the distance and engaging in brief, cryptic dialog while Kyminn conveyed requests and slowly built up a diagram of the mason's limb.

Some of the tasks, like picking up a stick using his thumb and each finger, that made sense. So too did picking up successfully heavier containers of water until his strength gave out.

Other things, like closing his eyes while water was dribbled on different parts of the arm, or having to rest his hand in warm water while Kyminn gently prodded his arm with a pin…well, aside from causing him a sudden need to visit the privy, there didn't seem to be much purpose to them.

Still, it was a relief to return from the privy to see the three Healers beaming at him. Clearly, it was good news. Disconcerting, to be sure, to learn that their plan was to take some flesh from his calf ("just a little piece, you'll never miss it, I promise!") and stitch it into his arm.

# # #

"And what is the man's prognosis?" Caridoc demanded of the three weary Healers.

"I am happy to say, my lord, that the prognosis is excellent." Gaige gave Lady Devra a nod of thanks as he sipped the sweet apple-wine. "The surgery went well and we are already seeing a good response from the repaired nerves. If I can impose on my colleagues for another two or three days, Mason Gebb will be well on the road to recovery. Time and my attentions should be all he needs at that point."

"That is good news," Lady Devra wasn't effusive, but her words were clearly heartfelt. "It is good to know the fellow will see an improvement in his health and have the means to better provide for his family."

"Indeed. It is well done, all of you. Healer Gaige, you will find my very concrete thanks by way of a bonus in your quarter-pay packet."

"That's not necessary, my lord", Gaige protested.

"I'm aware of that. But nonetheless, I intend to reward your hard work just the same."

"Thank you, my lord." Clearly, Gaige was pleased at Caridoc's words.

"As for you," Caridoc turned to the two visiting Healers, "your agreed wages will also see an increase. As well, Healer Kyminn, I will see you in the stable courtyard tomorrow morning at the eighth hour. There are some arrangements needed to be made before you leave."

A twitch of an eyebrow, but Kyminn's "Yes, my lord," was bland.

# # #

Unsurprisingly, the Lord of Forst Reach appeared for the meeting dressed in heavy, durable fabrics. Well cut and fitted, to be sure, but aside from a dun-coloured patch bearing the Ashkevron arms, he could have been any of his field hands. Kyminn wondered if the man actually owned more than one formal set of clothes and if not, what Lady Devra had to say on the matter.

Clearly, the Lord's arrival had been a cue, for two grooms immediately emerged from the stable, leading a pair of saddled mounts.

Both were well- bred examples of Ashkevron stock, long-legged hunters with deep chests and arched necks. Watching the taller of the two, a sassy grey mare dance as she pretended to object to the lead made Kyminn smile.

Caridoc ran a hand soothingly down the mare's neck, shaking his head in mock disappointment at her behaviour. "Aye, it's terrible isn't it, being under saddle and about to do what you love?" A wet snort answered him.

Bemused, Kyminn took the reins that the groom offered and regarded his own mount. The bay mare rolled her eye as though exasperated with the antics of her stablemate and Kyminn felt his smile stretch into a grin.

"Mount up, Healer," Caridoc was already settled into his own seat. "We've some riding to do."

Kyminn's "Yes, my lord!" was enthusiastic as he let the groom help him into the saddle.

As they left the stable yard at a decorous walk, Kyminn spoke up. "If I may ask a question, my lord?"

Caridoc shifted his weight and the grey settled into a smooth trot. As Kyminn nudged his own mount, Caridoc replied. "You're wondering why I'm not riding Nightfall?"

"Night..? oh. No, my lord, I wasn't. But if I may ask, how is Hugo these days?"

A snort, not unlike the one his mare uttered, answered Kyminn. Then, "People seem to assume that because I'm Lord Ashkevron, I only ride stallions, the real fire-eaters."

"And do you, my lord?" There was a grin beneath the question.

"I _can_. I'll have you know that I can ride every horse on this holding – and have. And I'll thank you not to mention that to Lady Devra. There's a few 'fire-eaters' she'd rather I left to the younger trainers, thank you very much." Caridoc shook his head and the smile he shared with Kyminn was startlingly open.

"Wouldn't dream of it, my lord," Kyminn assured him. "I've a terrible memory for that sort of thing."

"Having met your very capable wife, I imagine you do." Caridoc changed the subject. "There are times when a stallion happens to be the best choice of mount. But that's simply because that animal is the one most suited for the task, not whether it's a stallion, mare or gelding. I'd be a fool to let my pride dictate those sorts of decisions.

"This girl," he patted the grey neck, "is Greyhawk's Lady. She's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, my lord. She is rather magnificent," Kyminn agreed.

"As for Hugo, he is at the small-keep, to the north and west. It was a hunting lodge at one time, but we expanded it into a permanent steading. We keep most of our warhorse lines up there. Hugo has quite a few mares to attend to over the next few sennights."

"I see, my lord. Thank you for the explanations." Kyminn was disappointed not to have a chance to check up on Hugo, but then chided himself for the notion that Forst Reach would arrange things simply so one wandering Healer could visit a horse. "To be honest though, my question was, 'Where are we going?'"

"There's a pasture about a half-candlemark from here. We're gathering some stock there for the first of the spring faires." Caridoc's look was measuring. "The trip would be faster if we traveled cross country. Over a few ditches and fences."

Kyminn's chin tilted up every so slightly and his gaze was steady. "Don't let my leg fool you, my Lord. I am still a very competent rider."

"Well then. Let's see if you can keep up," and the grey shot forward, Kyminn hot on her heels.

It was nothing like the smooth, balanced gait that Lacaral had offered. This was discordant thunder, with small hesitations and changes of pace. That it couldn't hold a candle to the astonishing feeling of being borne by a Companion didn't make it one whit less marvelous.

As they broke out of the brush and back onto the road, Caridoc slowed 'Hawk, easing her into a walk to let her cool down. Kyminn moved his own mount up beside the Lord, matching his horse's pace to the other's.

"You've a decent enough seat," Caridoc allowed. "A bit loose at times though."

Kyminn wanted to point out that he'd only been 'loose' once and that because his horse had suddenly realized that she might want to avoid running into a tree. It was not a problem one ran into when working with Companions. Personally, he thought he'd done rather well to stay on, all things considered.

"One tries, milord," was the polite reply. "My Lord, why, precisely are we here? And why the test of my riding skills?"

Caridoc gestured up the road where a group of men waited near a pen holding thirty or so horses. "I am going to be trusting my son to your care. If the Herald is right, his life is in your hands. Is it surprising that I wanted to get a measure of you before I did so?"

"Not surprising, no, my lord. I know that I am not the most physically able of guardians." Kyminn kept his gaze straight ahead.

"My son left with himself and thirteen others. All were well mounted and my son was on his personal animal, a very distinctive liver gelding with a black mane and tail. The…gamekeeper's son…has no horse. Why would he? If it happens that he needs to seek help, or worse yet, flee for his life…how is he to do so?"

Kyminn turned to look at Caridoc. "So, this is a horse for the gamekeeper's son, then?"

"And yours." Caridoc nodded. "When you get to Haven, the gamekeeper will become my son again and he will have his own gelding back. This horse you can keep, a gift from my son to yours."

"That is…very generous…my lord." Kyminn was stunned.

"I will be honest with you Healer. These are good, healthy animals, but not animals we want to keep in our breeding program. None bear the Ashkevron registry and as such, are not tremendously valuable. While culls, they are still fine beasts and I'm confident we will find one that will serve you well.

Now, let me tell you a bit about that bay there with the three white socks…"


	35. Chapter 35

"Hallo the camp!"

Kyminn looked up from the stream edge where he was watering the horses to see a man and youth waving from the far bank. Although expected, seeing the gamekeeper and Gaven arrive when and where expected was still a profound relief.

They were two days out of Forst Reach and still a half day from the edge of the Count's demesne. This meeting place had been selected because it was actually a rather poor campsite and not an obvious stopping place. It was also a substantial distance from where a youthful-looking armsman had taken on the persona of travelling prospective Trainee and a young nobleman had disappeared into the brush. Small measures to be sure, but anything within their power to reduce the threat was welcome.

Kyminn waved in response and watched as the gamekeeper and Gaven splashed their way across the stream. Kyminn was pleased to see that Gaven showed no sign of the debilitating fractures of the previous winter.

"Welcome, both of you." Kyminn nodded up the bank behind them. "Cydris should have an early supper started. We expected you'd be joining us."

The gamekeeper jerked his chin down in thanks. "Thankee Healer, we was hoping that would be so. Come along then, boy."

Gaven glanced from the gamekeeper to Kyminn. "Do you need help with the horses?" A small gesture offered to take one of the leads.

Kyminn didn't, his Gift ensured that, but he was gratified to see that the boy would offer. Kyminn wondered if the boy was inclined to pitch in on all counts or simply when it came to horseflesh. It could prove to be an interesting couple of moons if they had to spend it knocking off a few pounds of entitlement.

Determined to reinforce the lad's willingness to assist, Kyminn handed over one of the lead ropes with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Gaven."

Gaven readily took the lead rope and got the horse settled on her picket. With Cydris's permission, he measured out her grain and then did the same for the others. By the time Kyminn had made his own, slower, return, Gaven was examining 'his' horse.

"I don't recognize this one. Where did she come from?" He seemed vaguely disappointed at the animal's uninspiring appearance.

"Apparently, one your father's neighbours made the mistake of bringing a mare in season on the fall hunt a few years ago. One of the guides' mountain stock stallions found her. This is the result." The mare wouldn't win any prizes for elegance, but she had inherited her sire's stamina and her dam's fearless willingness to tackle any obstacle. To Kyminn's thinking, she was well-suited as an all-round cross-country mount.

"I suppose she'll do," Gaven allowed. Kyminn caught Cydris's glance and her raised eyebrow. This could indeed prove interesting.

"Boy…" the single word, drawled and even, had a weight of warning in it.

It drew Gaven up short. The youngster blushed and gave Kyminn a half-nod of apology. "I meant 'Thank you'. It was good of my father to send her."

Kyminn handed his own lead line off to Ansen and with a jerk of his head, drew the gamekeeper aside. "I think I'm missing something here." A raised eyebrow made the statement a question.

The gamekeeper harrumphed. "Lad's not as bad as all that. Just used to having servants at his beck and call is all. My Lord told me to treat the boy as though he were my apprentice and that I have. Can't be calling an apprentice 'sir' and 'milord' and Lord Caridoc made clear that the boy won't be getting any of that in Haven. Still though, I couldn't quite bring myself to call My Lord's son by his given name, so 'Boy' it is." A twisted grin. " _That_ didn't sit so well with his young lordship at first, let me tell you."

They glanced over to where Ansen and Gaven were grooming the horses. Ansen couldn't reach the backs of the dray beasts but Gaven seemed willing to take that part. Judging from the boys' posture, Gaven's unthinking condescension was lost on Ansen.

"That lasted only a few days," the gamekeeper went on. "A few missed meals and a clout on the back of the head goes a long way if you've good metal to work with. I've had him for three sennights now and the boy is coming around."

"And you think this boy is 'good metal', as you put it?"

"Oh, aye. Good enough at any rate. He's got the piss and vinegar you'd expect from a lad his age. Likes to sleep past the dawn and would just as soon not do chores if he can help it, but that's no more nor less than most boys. I raised a handful of my own so there's no moss on me." A gravelly chuckle followed this statement.

"Well, let's hope you're right. Otherwise, this could prove to be a long journey." Kyminn grinned. "Settle yourself down, I'll go check on supper."

# # #

True to the gamekeeper's prediction, Gaven was, indeed, 'good metal'. Unfortunately, molding that metal into a Healer Trainee was not as easy as the gamekeeper had made it seem. While Gaven was, at heart, a thoughtful and intelligent young man, he was also a product of servants, deference and being the youngest son. It meant he carried a lot of unconscious thoughts and habits and, being a thirteen-year-old youth, was not always open to having one's shortcomings pointed out.

When one discovers that a seven-year-old is better at cleaning the dishes than you are, the correct response is not to declare that "Of course she is, she's a girl and of that class." Statements like that, Gaven learned, earn one the chore of doing _all_ the dishes for the next four days – to practice.

The young trainee also learned that dropping one's dirty laundry beside Cydris with "Here you are" meant that the laundry was returned – still dirty – in a heap on one's bedroll. Eventually, you either politely ask for assistance in learning how to handle the chore or wear very smelly clothing. Gaven seemed determined to choose the latter until Kyminn asked if Gaven need his hide cleaned with a horsebrush.

Still, it wasn't all bad. Gaven only tried once to treat Ansen like a groom. The younger boy's bland expression and single raised eyebrow, complete with a look of innocent bafflement, was enough to remind Gaven of where they were. Within a few days, the two boys were developing a cautious truce, centered around their shared interest in all things equine.

Cydris took charge of training and controlling the young Healer's Gift. This was an area where Kyminn was able to offer little help, save to offer his own strength, should she need it for shielding. Like most emerging Gifts, Gaven's was still largely undefined, although it held promise for being fairly substantial in time. Gaven was keenly interested in this new skill and threw considerable effort towards mastering the basics of 'ground and center' and then shielding. The Danner children weren't above getting some of their own back when it came time to try to push Gaven off his center, but Gaven eventually admitted that it was deserved.

As the green of new leaf began to darken, part of Kyminn felt a trickle of relief. The first Foresight, that of Gaven's death, seemed to have been averted. But whether it was averted, or simply postponed – that was a gnawing worry that grew as their little group moved into the dark green of summer and ever closer to Haven.

# # #

"Ansen! Did you find the water pail?" Cydris poked her head out of the canvas flap.

"I did!" Ansen held the errant pail up in answer.

Kyminn gave one last tug on the saddle-horse's girth and gathered up the reins.

 _SHOCK!_

He wasn't aware of clutching at the horse, of the animal tossing her head and shifting in surprise at his sudden spasm.

 _An unfamiliar brown horse. Deep pain and the scream of a horse in agony._

 _Scattered flashes – brown hide, fur, hooves, teeth. Flashing blades. A crossbow bolt arcs towards a patch of white hide._

 _Pain! Painpainpainpain!_

"Kyminn!" Cydris knew that expression all too well, Kyminn reeling and trying to brace as Foresight battered his shields and consciousness.

He shook his head, letting it flow over himself, desperately seeking a when, a where. In a heartbeat, it vanished, gone as though it had never been.

"What did you see?" Calm, measured, knowing that these first moments were the most important in capturing the warning.

"An attack. An ambush." He paused, sorting the memories and impressions as he had been taught. "Soon – today." Eyes closed, he turned his head like a blind man seeking to feel the sun. Eyes snapped open. "There. That way. A few miles, I think."

He looked around the clearing where they had so recently camped. The children, including Gaven, were frozen, wide-eyed white faces staring at Kyminn. He hesitated, torn. Everything in him was shrieking to go, Go, GO! But his children were here, vulnerable, along with the boy whose life he was supposed to protect. Kyminn turned to Cydris in an agony of indecision.

"How much time do we have?" Still calm. Still measured. Still his ground and anchor.

A deep breath. "A few candlemarks, I think. More than one, but other than that I can't say."

"Kyminn? What's going on?" Gaven was trying valiantly to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Kyminn has had a Foresight," Cydris addressed all the children. "He's seen something that may happen, and soon. An attack of some kind."

"On us?" Niyeh fled towards Cydris, clinging fiercely to her mother.

Kyminn shook his head. "No. Not us." He was too busy sorting out the scattered memories to notice the relief on his listeners' faces. "Someone else, not far from here."

"Ansen, Mehrhet – sweep the campsite for any last items. Gaven, check that the horses are ready." Cydris was crisp, decisive and the children flew to do as they were told.

"Kyminn," firm and focused, ignoring the chaos behind her. "Can you see anything? Are there any creatures about?"

Kyminn took a deep breath and reached _within_ and _outwards_ , seeking the simple minds that shone like distant candles to his inner sight.

 _Here_ , with them are the three horses, nervous and shifting as they sense fear in their two-legged herd. Without thinking, he brushes over them, soothing and settling. _Here_ too are the dogs – Raff, Tip, Bull and Jet, the last puppy of the litter. Her littermates remained in Oakden, happily finding homes in the village. The dogs were restless too, hackles up and growling. Bull's basso rumbling is a tone below that of the others as he circles Kyminn, looking for the threat. With a thought, Kyminn scatters the dogs, using their senses to patrol the brush around the clearing, seeking out that which does not belong.

 _Farther_ now. A flock of sparrows, tiny minds scattered and frightened. He dips into them but lets them be. It would be too hard on both of them to wrest a little bird from the safety of the flock. Mind to mind he reaches, skipping through the trees, moving always in the direction of his vision.

 _There!_ A youngster on a dark brown horse, empty sacks slung along behind him. Kyminn touches the horse's mind and tastes an eagerness to move this way, up the road to where it knows its hay and oats await.

Forward now, along the track between the pair and here, reaching…seeking. He feels the fear of a squirrel, announcing to all who can hear that there are intruders in her territory. He enters her mind, sees through her eyes. With silent apology, he sends her leaping through the trees, letting her nose tell him what has disturbed her so. One. Two. Three…five altogether. Five men, stinking of sweat and wood smoke, concealed in the rocks beside the track, waiting for when the boy has no choice but to enter the defile to cross the rushing freshet.

Kyminn withdrew, returning once again to his _self._ Kneeling, he began to sketch in the soil. The boy on the horse, the men, the stream.

"There are five of them. They are waiting for the boy. I can't tell why. They are lying in wait here," he pointed, dropping pebbles to mark each spot.

"How well armed are they?" Gaven's question caught both of them by surprise. Kyminn and Cydris looked up to see the young lord examining the scratches and stones.

"Short swords and at least one crossbow," Kyminn answered without thinking. "But you're not going to be involved in this."

"I've had arms training since I could walk," Gaven pointed out. "I'm not an expert by any stretch, but I'm better than nothing."

Kyminn badly wanted to take Gaven up on his offer. He himself had been at best a modest swordsman when he still had two good legs. Now, he knew he was better off staying far from a fight. As for Cydris, she had never had serious combat training. Although she was fairly able with a bow, her combat skills were restricted to "Block, duck and run".

"No." Cydris was firm. "Our job is to protect _you_." When he started to protest, she spoke over him. "You will stay with the children. Flee with them if it comes to that. Fight if you have no choice. _That_ is what you will do. Understood?"

Gaven bit off his protests. The realization that Cydris had put the children under his protection made him blanch, but he nodded.

"Good." She turned to Kyminn. "Is there a place we can hide the wagon?"

Kyminn _reached_ again and nodded. "There's a spot just up the road. We should be able to hide the wheel marks well enough. It won't fool a real scout, but it will buy some time."

In the end, it wasn't nearly as good as they would have wished but it was the best they had. The younger children cut brush to conceal the wagon while Gaven and Kyminn unhooked the horses. Fumbling in their haste, they rigged up saddle pads and girths for the horses. As Kyminn sliced reins to shorten them, he wished for a pair of saddles. As well to wish for a company of the Guard!

Cydris made packs for each child. Food, warm clothes, knife, fire starter and a few other necessities. No essential item was left with just one person. If the children were separated, they each had what they needed. The only item she couldn't duplicate was the map. Ruthlessly, she tore the flyleaves from the children's books and scrawled a rough copy of the roadways and the direction of the nearest village. It was all she could do.

For Cellen, she packed only clothes and a few diapers. She tucked in a bowl, spoon and some cornmeal. Ground fine and mixed with water it would do for a few days at least.

"I'm leaving Jet with you. She's not war trained but she'll alert you if anyone approaches." Kyminn handed Ansen's pack up. His son looked tiny perched on the draft horse's back and Kyminn wanted to snatch him down and hold him tight.

Ansen nodded. Niyeh was seated in front of her brother, her eyes wide and somber. Cellen was travelling with Gaven this once. Mehrhet had taken charge of hers and Gaven's gear and was clutching it firmly.

"Remember. Stay here. If we're not back by dark, head for the village. Understand? Don't go back to the wagon, they'll be expecting that." All four nodded.

"Alright then." With a final backwards glance, Kyminn let Cydris boost him into the saddle and then pulled her up behind him.

"Be careful. We love you." It was all he could think of to say.

# # #

There was nothing to say as the road disappeared behind them. Their plan, such as it was, was thin at best and they both knew it. They had discussed Kyminn simply forcing the boy's horse to turn around but had reluctantly rejected the idea. Faced with a recalcitrant beast, the boy might be injured in the ensuing battle for control of the animal, or he might dismount and try to lead his horse. On foot, the boy would be even more vulnerable.

Even if the beast turned willingly and the boy complied (which was unlikely), the threat of the attackers remained. Instead, the intention was to have Kyminn slow the boy's horse to an amble. It would no doubt be frustrating for the rider, but shouldn't cause alarm. That would give Kyminn and Cydris enough time to intercept the boy and turn him aside well before the crossing. With the boy safe, they could hopefully avoid engaging the waiting men. If the attackers remained in a group, Kyminn would be able to follow them from the trees for quite some time – ideally long enough for the Guard to handle the rough parts. Kyminn was no longer wishing for saddles for the dray horses, now he found himself he'd packed the dogs' armour – just in case. Oh, and a company of Guard would be nice too.

 _SHOCK!_

 _White hide. Blue eyes. Blood and rage._

 _Now!_

The horse squealed in surprise as Kyminn dug his heels into her sides, turning her head towards the crossing, to where five men were turning their attention from the road in front of them to the road behind, where a Companion forded the stream and felt the first crossbow bolt enter her neck.

Kyminn gave a mental shout and the dogs tore through the trees, surging with unerring precision towards where men lay in wait. Cydris squeezed his waist in warning and he drew the horse up, just long enough for her to drop off where she could slip into the cover of the trees.

Gaven's horse wasn't a war horse. She wasn't trained in any of the maneuvers and had never faced the noise and flash of battle. It didn't matter. Kyminn had trained dozens of horses in those same maneuvers. Mind to mind, he overrode his mount's instinct and fear, driving her into the clash. When the man rose up before her, his mouth agape at the thunder behind him, Kyminn took control, bringing the mare up on her hind legs and lashing out, one foot after another. He felt her pain and heard her cry at the slash on her leg but ignored it. A crow hop and another foreleg lashed out. The man went down and Kyminn let the horse drop to all fours.

Not staying to see if the man was dead, Kyminn pushed the horse onward.

The Companion was surging out of the stream, blood flowing freely from the wound in her neck while the dilute red painted her chest with pink. The white tower of rage leapt forward, twisting to avoid the bolts hissing around her. Two men rose from behind one of the boulders and pulled back on their bowstrings. One of the arrows skittered wildly off the rocky ground as the man flinched to avoid Cydris's arrow. The other was more steady in his aim but still just missed the charging Companion.

Kyminn threw power into his control over his own horse, blocking the horse's pain as he pounded towards the two bowmen.

An indistinct shout went up behind him and he twisted in the saddle as the brown farm horse galloped towards the battling men. With his energies focused on the battle in front of him, Kyminn had released his hold on the farmer's horse and the boy, rather than turning aside, had spurred his horse towards the clash of arms. Kyminn couldn't control both his horse and the brown. With a grunt and a _pull_ , he tried to turn his animal, to get between the men and their target.

He had succeeded in turning his horse when he found himself shouldered aside by a white shape. Off balance from the shove, Kyminn reeled in the saddle when he felt the sword cut deep into the farm horse's neck, felt the horse begin to fall.

Kyminn flung energy into his shields, trying to retain coherent thought for the moments it took for the horse to die. As the animal collapsed, the Companion launched herself, vaulting over the granite barrier and, somehow, using it to push herself beyond her foes.

It wasn't an aimed blow so much as it was a vain slash at the white form overhead. It nearly missed.

Nearly.

Nearly is not 'completely'.

It did completely miss her belly by a substantial margin.

It did miss her inner thigh, although by a much smaller margin.

It did not miss her hind leg. Worse still, it did not miss the tendon, that critical strand that tells one's limb to move just so.

When she landed, it was on three legs, for the fourth would not hold her weight, would not answer to her will, no matter how prodigious. And fast as a Companion is, even on three legs, she was not fast enough.

So the boy died.

Trapped under his fallen horse, he was easy prey for the man with his ugly little sword.

Silver, then red. Then red again as two snarling shapes tore and snapped.

The Companion's shriek of rage was deafening. She pivoted, somehow, on her front legs and kicked out at the men who had struck her. One of them she missed. The other was mashed against the rock with a sound something between a pop, a crack and a smear. It turns out that _smear_ has a distinct sound to it. The second man swung at the Companion, slashing her along the ribs. Any wonder he might have felt at why such a blow had not turned the 'horse' aside was forever driven from his mind by two silver hooves entering it.

It had happened so quickly that Kyminn was still setting his horse on her new heading. He looked around frantically, looking for threats. The two formerly human piles of pulp receiving the attentions of the Companion were a threat only if such things made you queasy.

The man who had slaughtered the boy was dead, collapsed beneath a too-still bundle of dark fur. Kyminn wrenched his mind away from the sight. He would grieve later.

The man Kyminn had trampled was also dead, killed in the first rush. The remaining foe had bled out, skewered by one of Cydris's arrows and rent by the dogs. It was impossible to tell which had killed him and totally irrelevant.

The Companion was silent now, blood running from her wounds as she stood, shaking. Kyminn didn't need to check the boy. It was clear from the Companion's reaction that he was dead. It was equally clear that it was not her Chosen who had died. It was, instead, a 'might have been' and he wished for her sake that she had the power to weep.

Kyminn drew up beside her, sliding out of the saddle. "Lady…I'm sorry. Please, let me help you."

The Companion drew her head up and took a half-step backwards.

Kyminn blinked. "You cannot return to Haven like that. You will be crippled! My name is Kyminn Danner. I am a Healer of Companions. Please, let me help you!" He felt pretentious, giving himself that title, but it was all that came to mind to explain himself to her.

Another half step back. The Companion tossed her head, pointing. She stamped her foot for emphasis.

Puzzled and uneasy, Kyminn looked in the direction the Companion was pointing. There was nothing there. There was only the treeline, near where he'd left…

CYDRIS!

It took him far longer than it should have for him to climb back into the saddle. Later, he would swear that _something_ gave him a push. The horse balked at Kyminn's urgings but again, he overrode her, blocking her pain and fear.

"Cydris!" He crashed through the trees, fearful of trampling her, fearful of silence.

"Here." There was a reassuring strength in her voice that made him want to sob with relief.

She was lying on her side, twisted oddly in the brush and he nearly fell as he dropped from the saddle beside her.

"Don't touch!" It was a whip crack. Her fists were jammed against her thigh, white with effort as dark red arterial blood oozed out of the deep wound in her leg.

Replacing her hands with a tourniquet was easy. It was also a short-term answer. Left on, the tourniquet would cause the limb to die. Remove it and Cydris would bleed out within moments.

Getting Cydris onto the horse was out of the question, nor could he carry her. Dragging her on a stretcher was not only likely to kill her, the brush was far too thick.

"My love…" Kyminn was examining and rejecting ideas almost as quickly as they came up.

"Kyminn." Then again. "Kyminn!"

He focused his attention on her again.

"You need to get Gaven." She was firm.

"Gaven? He's with the children." Who were safe now, he realized.

"Yes. And he has a Healing Gift."

"Barely emerged!" he protested. "And untrained!"

"But you're not. You will lend him strength while I govern the flow of his Gift. I'll make sure we don't burn him out. All he has to do is seal one blood vessel. You will do the rest."

He had a hundred reasons to protest. Gaven's Gift was still unstable. Gaven had never Healed anything before. Cydris might die.

He had one reason to agree.

Cydris _would_ die.

"I don't want…." He wasn't sure what it was he didn't want. He didn't want her to be injured. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want her to leave him.

"I know. Go anyway." She gave him a little push. "And maybe you should hurry." The smile that went with it was wobbly.

He paused only long enough to seal (seal, not heal) his horse's painful gash. Then he blocked her pain and turned her weary head back towards where he'd left the children. He just hoped there was time.


	36. Chapter 36

It had been not even two candlemarks, but it felt like he had been gone for days. A flicker of thought to the waiting dog, lest she alert and spur the children into flight.

They were waiting for him, of course, gathered around the grazing horses. Kyminn could see where they had piled timber into mounting blocks, should they need to mount and flee. It was a reasonable solution to the problem of them sitting perched on the horses for who knew how long. The restlessness of the horses, not to mention the needs of the children to answer calls of nature were strong reasons for the children to have climbed down.

"Da?" Ansen's question was anxious. "Where's Ama?"

Kyminn shaded the truth. "Gaven and I need to go back, she needs our help."

Niyeh, stressed and frightened, began to cry. Mehrhet drew her sister close and whispered something. Whatever it was, it reduced the sobs to quiet sniffles.

"Ansen, take Cellen please. You and your sisters go back to the wagon – it's safe now. Bring the horses with you if you can, but don't worry if you can't. We can catch them later." Easier to focus on the problem in front of him than problems in the future. "We will try to be back by dark. If we aren't, you take care of the others, understand?" It was a lot to ask of an eleven-year old.

His son nodded. "We know how. From before."

Kyminn hesitated. "You know how to feed Cellen?" At Ansen's nod, Kyminn added, "He probably won't want to eat it. Just do your best. I'll…help as soon as I can." Kyminn's mind shied away from how he was to care for Cellen in the days to come.

Gaven had been handing off the infant while Kyminn was speaking. By the time Kyminn had finished, the youngster was pulling himself up behind the saddle.

Gaven waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. "Where are we going? I thought we were going to this river crossing?"

"The wagon first. I need my healing kit."

Gaven was quiet. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Kyminn didn't turn his head, but Gaven could feel the older man sag in the saddle. "It's very bad. Cydris's wound…she could bleed to death."

Gaven hunched down. "Kyminn, I…don't know how to Heal. I don't know what to do." There was real fear in his voice.

Kyminn reached back and clumsily patted the Trainee. "I know. So does Cydris. We think we have an answer to that. In fact, I had an idea on the way here that may help even further."

Kyminn drew up at the wagon and, to the horse's relief, they both dismounted.

"Gaven, you know where my bag is, yes?"

Gaven nodded. "I think so. In the front bench on the left side?" He was already climbing over the tailgate.

"Right side," Kyminn was trying to clamp down on his anxiety, on his urge to climb back on the horse and gallop back to his wife.

It took only a moment, but as Gaven went to re-mount, Kyminn stopped him.

"I want to show you something first."

"But…I thought we needed to hurry."

"We do. But we have to do this first. Before…Gaven, tell me about the accident at the wall. Not the details, just…how those memories make you feel."

Gaven wrinkled his brow. "I…we were all excited, I remember that. Then there was a lot of noise and shouting. I remember I couldn't feel my legs and thought that that was strange. There was dust and someone was screaming. I thought I should be screaming too, but nothing hurt. Then someone moved some stones and I remember thinking "Oh, I do have legs after all. So that's where they are." and then it hurt too much and I passed out."

"Did you see the other injured men?"

"No, not until afterwards. I didn't see any blood or anything."

"Gaven," Kyminn kept his voice gentle while his heart screamed, "this battle – and it was a battle, even if it was a very small one – is not pretty. It's ugly and smells like blood and bowels."

Gaven paled, but nodded his understanding.

"When we train Healers, we let your skills and confidence grow so you learn to handle the ugly parts. Even then it's sometimes more than a student can cope with and they find themselves puking up their breakfast.

"I'm not going to ask you to look at those parts, to deal with those parts. So, when I tell you to close your eyes, or just look at your feet, I need you to listen to me and do as I ask, understand?"

Gaven's head bobbed in relieved agreement.

Kyminn took the boy's shoulders and made sure Gaven was looking at him. "I will be honest – Cydris's wound is messy. It's not her guts," Kyminn hastened to reassure, "It's her leg. There's a lot of blood and, frankly, it looks like raw meat. I want to tell you this now so that you are prepared. If it helps to think of it like a deer that you're working on and not a person, do that."

"I don't know what to do." It was a quaver.

"I know. I'm going to try to show you. All we are asking you to do is one small thing. I will do the rest. Cydris and I will lend you our strength, I just need to ask you to use your Gift for a moment. Do you think you can manage that?"

It was desperately important that Gaven _believe_ he could do this. Control of one's Gift was as much a skill of controlling one's feelings as it was of directing energies. Uncertainty, or worse yet, failure, could stunt Gaven's ability to ever access his Gift, causing damage that would take a Mindhealer to correct.

"Just one thing?" Gaven looked relieved. "I can do that."

"Good." Kyminn pushed as much confidence as he could into the one word. "Now – I hope – I'm going to show you what to do. Pinch and seal. That's it. Ready? Lower your shields. You should feel me, just like you knew Cydris was there. Link with me, just like you did with her."

Gaven fumbled a bit, but soon made the link, pleased with himself at accomplishing the task.

"Well done! Now, this is the part that I'm hoping works. _I_ can See only animals. Some Healers can See only people, but many – most – can see something of both." Kyminn extended his Gift and joined his energies to that of the horse. "Tell me, what do you See?"

Gaven's jaw dropped. "It's…colours and…almost like a living sculpture. I'm not sure I can explain it."

Kyminn smiled in relief. "Good! That's very good! What you're describing is pretty common. The life energies we encounter can appear as colours, liquid, a solid you can shape – I heard of someone once who said it sounded like music."

Conscious of the trickling measure of time and Gaven's limited capacity, Kyminn pushed onward. "You can see where she's injured? Where she was slashed?" He flowed his energy over the sealed wound, highlighting it but not exerting himself."

"I do. It feels like I should…move it around and make the shape right", unconsciously, Gaven gave a small _push_ at the wound.

"Easy!" It came out more sharply than Kyminn had intended and the link wobbled. He fed in some more of his dwindling strength until it stabilized. A flashed smile of reassurance. "Save your strength!"

Kyminn drew out his belt knife and used his Gift to highlight a blood vessel just beneath the hide. "Gaven, I've blocked her pain – she won't feel this. Do you trust me on that?"

The lordling looked as though he wanted to protest, but gave a reluctant nod. "I can tell that you did something, but I can't tell what."

"I'm going to temporarily seal the vessel as it flows beneath her skin. Like this." And he demonstrated. "Now you try it."

It took a couple of tries, and more of Kyminn's precious strength than he would have liked, but Gaven got the hang of it.

"Now I'm going to cut the vessel. I want you to mend it."

Gaven looked at his horse. The thought of intentionally injuring an animal – especially a horse! – went against everything he knew. "She won't feel any pain?"

"No pain and I'll Heal her straight away." It was a promise.

At Gaven's nod, Kyminn pierced the mare's hide, blood flowing freely from the wound.

Kyminn had been afraid that his young Trainee would become disconcerted at managing the living flow and the older Healer was prepared to step in if the boy faltered. Gaven made a small motion of his hands, his pinching fingers mimicking the actions of his Gift as the boy held the ends of the vessels closed.

"Oh, well done!" and it was. "I'm going to show you how I would seal the ends together, but I won't do it. Then you try."

Kyminn shaped his energies into a sheath, a protective sleeve around the two sections. Then he started to merge the energies with the artery, showing Gaven how the energy would become part of a new whole. Then he withdrew, leaving the field to the Trainee.

Gaven concentrated and his hands _pushed_ , as though shaping dough or clay. He _rolled_ the energy around the torn vessel and then smoothed it out, creating a new shape. He was panting when he was done.

"That was _very_ well done. I think you're as ready as you can be." Kyminn knitted the small gash together, using as little energy as he possibly could. That done, he mounted the mare and helped Gaven climb up behind. As soon as Gaven was settled, Kyminn pushed the horse into a trot. He blocked her pain and fatigue, but didn't dare lend her his strength.

As they neared the crossing, Kyminn glanced back over his shoulder. "Gaven, close your eyes and just tuck your head into my back, alright?"

He felt Gaven nod. In short moments, they passed the man that Kyminn had trampled and were pushing through the brush. "You can look now. We're nearly to Cydris." Kyminn tried to keep his tone calm, with an unspoken assertion that she would be alive and waiting for them.

"Took you long enough. You stop for lunch?" Her voice was weaker than before and Kyminn's fear at seeing her pallor warred with his relief at hearing her voice again.

"You practiced that, didn't you?" He tried to match her casual tone as he waited for Gaven to get down. He noted without comment the fresh blood pooled beneath her. It seemed as though she had been loosening the tourniquet in an attempt to protect blood flow to the lower limb. Beside her, Raff and Tip raised their heads in greeting from where Cydris had drawn them close, using their heat to stave off shock. Raff thumped her tail once in greeting and Kyminn could _feel_ the agony of her shattered hind leg. He ruthlessly clamped down on his shields, blocking his knowledge of her suffering.

Gaven was swallowing convulsively, trying not to stare at the mess of blood and tissue. Kyminn squeezed his shoulder gently. "Deep breaths. Puke if you need to. It's alright. We can do this, the three of us."

Gaven nodded but said only, "What should I do?"

Cydris's smile was grey with pain. "Kyminn is going to clean and ready the wound. I would very much like it if you would sit with me and let me hold your hand. It's going to hurt a great deal."

Gaven dropped to his knees beside her. One hand waved vaguely in the direction of her leg. "Is there anything I can do…you know, for the pain?" It was tentative.

Cydris caught Kyminn's headshake and turned to capture Gaven's gaze. "No, but thank you. We don't want to overstrain your Gift. I can manage." She clasped Gaven's hands in her own and nodded for Kyminn to proceed.

He tried to be gentle as he sliced open her trouser leg, easing the torn fabric away from the gash. To his relief, only a small trickle of blood marked his efforts.

To distract all three of them as he began to clean the periphery of the wound, he asked her "What was it? Looks like a spear."

She grunted with pain and there was a gasp in her reply. "Arrow. Small barbs, thank the gods. The bastard yanked it out. Not sure if he wanted me to bleed to death or it was in his way."

Kyminn's hands stuttered for a moment, then resumed. "What happened to him?"

"Raff." It was savagely gleeful. "With some help from Tip here. To be honest, I think he intended to kill me rather than do anything else. He seemed very upset at our interference."

"Where's the body?" Kyminn poured the astringent cleanser directly into the wound.

She cried out at that, spasming at the burning pain. Gaven grabbed her and held her tight. When she could breathe again, she jerked her head towards the woods. "Over there. He tried to fight off Raff, but ran when Tip showed up." She paused, drawing deep breaths. "Bull?"

Kyminn shook his head. "Dead. He tried to protect the boy, the one we came for."

Cydris nodded, unsurprised, her expression bleak at the loss.

"Okay Gaven, here's where I need you." Kyminn took a deep breath. "I don't need you to _do_ anything, not this time. First, I just want you to tell me what you see. How many vessels do I need to fix? I don't want to enter the wound track and poke around any more than absolutely necessary."

Gaven released Cydris and turned in place, one hand still holding hers for reassurance. He looked at the now-cleaned leg and then looked away, blushing.

It took Kyminn a moment to catch on, but when he did, he pulled off his own outer top, draping it over Cydris's lap and tucking it in to preserve her modesty.

"Sorry," Gaven looked embarrassed. "I know that it shouldn't bother me if I'm to be a Healer, but I just…don't want to see her personal parts unless I have to."

"Not to worry. That was very courteous of you." Kyminn said gravely. "Ready?"

It was easier to link the three of them, Kyminn ignoring his wife's sharp glance as he restricted her input to a token trickle of power.

Gaven was quiet for a moment, then, hesitantly, "There's a big vessel that's torn. The main artery." Gaven pointed, unerringly touching the area where the vessel was sundered. "And there is a smaller one in behind it. I think I can seal that one. Should I try?" A nod from Kyminn and Gaven's hands shaped air again. A smile. "There. There's the big one and a lot of other…mess. Lots of small ones." Again, without being aware he was doing so, he began to _push_ , to repair the wound.

This time, Kyminn was prepared and gently brought a shield up between Gaven and his patient. A shake, to bring the boy back. "Not yet. Keep your strength for just the one thing."

Abashed, the boy nodded and released the link. Kyminn threw Cydris a questioning glance. Was Gaven alright? Had they overstrained his Gift? Cydris gave a faint headshake. The boy was doing well.

"Gaven, Cydris is going to need you. Hold her tight, please. I am going to stitch the artery. When I've done so, you need to finish the Healing of it. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand." Gaven shifted Cydris to make her as comfortable as he could, then wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Her hands twisted in his tunic, knuckles white as she braced herself.

Slice into the leg to expose the damage. Clamp down on your feelings as your wife screams through gritted teeth and writhes beneath your hands. Clean the wound, moving as fast as you can to spare her a second's more pain than you must.

Stitching, feeling like your fingers are size of tree-trunks as you push the damaged flesh and ignore the muffled cries. Blink the tears away – you don't have time for them. One last stitch!

"Okay Gaven, now." Kyminn's voice was hoarse with strain as he linked to the boy again. Gaven was much faster this time and Kyminn could see the torn ends become whole again. Gaven was pale and shaking by the time it was done.

"Was that all?" He sounded exhausted.

"It was. It was very well done." Kyminn nodded in approval. "You just hold Cydris now while I finish the rest of this."

'The rest' was still a lot of work and even then, Kyminn didn't attempt to close the wound. That would come later – or perhaps not at all – depending on what resources they had. The last thing he wanted to do was trap infection inside the leg.

Although he worked as quickly and gently as he could, Cydris still fainted before he was done. Gaven looked panicked at first until Kyminn told him how to measure her pulse. Kyminn set the boy to monitoring her heartbeat with a warning to speak up at the slightest change.

Finally, exhausted, he packed the wound with gauze and bound it tight. Cydris was still pale, but her leg was warm again to the touch and the pulse in her ankle was strong. Kyminn wanted to ask Gaven if the boy could see any pockets of poison or clots within the limb, but didn't dare. Gaven had reached the limits of his young Gift.

"Now what?" Assured that Cydris was resting safely, Gaven looked at Kyminn in askance.

Kyminn hesitated. His wife was, in a literal sense, not out of the woods. She could not remain where she was. She needed warmth and shelter. As well, he had four children and all his gear two miles away along with a badly wounded Companion just down the bank. He felt torn to pieces.

"I can't carry a stretcher, not by myself, not with my leg. And you can't carry one end by yourself either. We'll rig it up so that Dusty" (the mare) "carries one end while you and I share the other. It's not far, just a couple hundred feet."

The mare was _not_ amused at having something hauled behind her. It was the latest indignity in a day which had been, in Dusty's opinion, heaped full of them. It took both of their combined skills to get the horse to accept the situation and in the end, Kyminn had to use some of his precious Gift to accomplish it.

It was a very long, very slow journey, taken one limping step at a time. Gaven's corner of the stretcher was supported by a strap (their joined together belts) running over one shoulder. Gaven's hands were thus free to handle the makeshift driving reins. Those long, flapping reins were something else for the mare to protest.

Kyminn wore a similar strap – fabric from Cydris's trousers cut into strips. One hand wielded his cane, the other a band around Raff's belly, lifting the dog's mangled leg off the ground. Her yelp at each step drove glass into Kyminn's heart, but he could see no other way to get the wounded animal out of the bush.

"Gaven, you'll want to close your eyes now," Kyminn was gentle.

The boy shook his head grimly. "I can't. I'm driving the horse. I'll be alright. I'll just look at her tail."

"Very well."

After only half an eternity, they broke from the trees to where the road widened towards the crossing. To their left, just up the road, a fallen horse hid the body of the boy. Beside them lay the attacker, Bull's dark form sprawled on the man's chest. Over this morbid tableau, the Companion stood vigil.

Gaven stopped, nearly letting the stretcher slip out of it's brace in his surprise. "Is that a Companion?"

Kyminn hadn't forgotten about the Companion. Far from it. She and Cydris had been at the forefront of his mind since the battle. He had, however, forgotten to mention her presence to Gaven.

"It is. And she's badly injured." Kyminn nudged Gaven into motion again.

"Why is she here? Is that…"

"It is. You may want to look somewhere else." It was grim. "As to why she is here, I'm not sure, but I suspect she was here for the boy."

"Is he…?"

"Yes. They killed him. Before you ask, no, I don't know why. I wish I did."

"Do you know who he is…was?"

"Not yet. We will, but later. Let's set up over there," Kyminn gestured with his cane. "We'll set things up so that you won't see them. Um...don't go to the right, towards the crossing. There are more bodies there and someone killed by a Companion makes a particularly messy corpse."

As they lowered the stretcher, Kyminn looked at Gaven. "The Companion needs me. I need for you to start a fire and get started on a shelter for Cydris. We'll take care of that first and then see about one of us going back for the others."

"I can do that." Gaven hesitated. "What about Raff?"

"I'll show you how to make a pain-draught that will work on her. And one that works on Companions too. I'm going to have to amputate that leg of Raff's, but not now. For now, all we can do is manage her pain. Fire and shelter first though."

Kyminn left Gaven to his tasks and limped over to the Companion. She had been watching them alertly and now, moving awkwardly on three limbs, met him halfway.

"Thank you, Lady, for helping me save my wife." His voice was rough with unshed tears. She dipped her head in acknowledgement of his thanks, brushing her nose gently across his chest.

He held out his hand to the stranger. "May I?", and she reached out and placed herself beneath his hand.

 _Down_ he slid into his Gift, diving much farther than he should have to touch his strength. _Up_ and _out_ , blending his strength to hers, examining, assessing. With a mental grunt that shaped the last of his strength, he blocked her pain. Withdrawing from the trance, he wobbled. It wasn't until he felt warm hide beneath his hands that he realized that his body had wobbled too. As soon as he regained his equilibrium, he drew away, fearful of imposing on her privacy.

She was more alert now, the bolt in her neck no longer oozing. He sighed.

"Lady, you need surgery to remove both the bolt and repair your tendon. But you knew that. I could do both of those now. The bolt is not barbed and would withdraw easily enough. But as you felt, I can do no more than that. I can remove it, and stitch the wound. But the pain block will wear off and I haven't the strength to renew it. I also cannot cleanse the wound aside from mundane tools. The same is true for the wound on your side. I can clean and stitch it, but no more.

"Still, those wounds should respond well to those simple surgeries. I can also offer you a pain draught that will help. I made sure to include medicine for the horses as well as my family. I can use those medicines on you if you wish.

"As for your tendon…I can also stitch that, but I do not recommend it. The tendon has withdrawn into its sheath and pulling it down would be painful. Unless it is Healed, it will never be strong enough."

She looked at him gravely, then nodded. Her head cocked to one side and her ears came forward in what was clearly a question.

"If you are asking me what I think," he paused until her nod confirmed his guess, "I would suggest that I take care of the bolt and slash now. Tomorrow, when I am more able, I will attempt your leg."

The Companion looked thoughtfully from Kyminn to where Gaven was starting to build a rough shelter. A small fire flickered in the afternoon sunlight. The Companion made a dipping motion as though kneeling, then looked back at the Healer.

"You're right. I don't think you should lie down to rest. I'm not sure you could get back up again without doing further damage. When we have retrieved the rest of the gear, I can make you a sling. I'm sure we can find some suitable trees."

With a last glance back at the boy, the Companion let Kyminn help her over to where Gaven was working. Finding a suitable stand of trees – four sturdy trees in a more or less square and close enough together – was easy. The fact that there was a good bit of brush to clear first made Kyminn want to weep when he realized how exhausted he was and that everything they now desperately needed was back with the wagon.

"Gaven, do you think you would be able to hitch up the horses and bring the wagon?" The thought of all that remained to be done was overwhelming.

"I can," it was quick and confident. "But I think I should walk. It's not all that far and Dusty is spent."

"That would do. Thank you. I will take care of cleaning up here while you're gone." A tilt of the head to the bodies.

Gaven agreed with such alacrity that Kyminn gave a small smile. As the boy trotted off, Kyminn checked on Cydris. She was, to his relief, resting easily. He poured the rest of the water from the flask on the saddle into a pot from his healer's kit and put the pain-brew on to steep. Then he set to dealing with the dead.

First was Bull. Kyminn gently lifted his faithful friend and set him off to the side, arranging him under the trees. They would bury him tomorrow.

Second was the boy. Try as he might, Kyminn found himself unable to free the boy from where he was trapped beneath the horse. Lacking a shovel to dig the rocky ground, or a means to pull the horse off, there was little Kyminn could do. In the end, he simply removed his jacket and draped it over the boy.

Moving the attacker was easy. All too aware of just how heavy the dead can be, Kyminn had brought the improvised straps with him. Grunting and swearing, he managed to haul the body off to the side where a barrier of branches would block it from view.

He took the time to examine the corpse, hoping for some sort of clue about who the fellow was or why he would attack a boy and a Companion. The man was unremarkable and could have been from anywhere. His hands bore the calluses of a swordsman. Although there were small scars here and there, the fellow didn't have the scarred knuckles and battered face of a thug.

After a moment of consideration, Kyminn removed all the clothing from the corpse. He was no expert in such things, but perhaps the Guard or a Herald might see something in the cut or make of the gear which might hint to its origin. It might be best to preserve the gear and not bury or burn it with the body. Kyminn made sure to check for a wedding ring or other jewelry, but aside from a good-luck token on a thong about the man's neck, there was nothing.

The body of the trampled man was also relatively easy to clean up. Kyminn stripped the corpse and then dragged the man over and dumped him beside his friend. The two that the Companion had killed, for those, Kyminn used the stretcher and loaded it up with as many pieces as he could locate. The gear was little more than shreds, but he took what he could find. There was still a considerable 'splash zone' where they had lain and all Kyminn could think to do was kick sand over the mess remind himself to have the children avoid the area.

The final fellow, the one where Cydris had lain, that one Kyminn didn't bother to move. He was well out of sight in the bush and Kyminn was quite happy to wait for help with that one. Kyminn backtracked only enough to remove the gear before it became contaminated with the products of decomposition. It was already well contaminated by the mess created by two furious war dogs.

This fellow was much as the others, save that he wore a wedding band as well as the good-luck token. Kyminn wanted to feel bad for the man's wife, whoever she was, but was too drained to care. As he trudged back with the blood-soaked clothing, he wondered if she knew her husband was off killing children.

Dumping the clothing into the pile with the rest, Kyminn flopped down beside his wife as he checked on Cydris again. A faint smile greeted him and he simply brushed her hair with one hand. "Hi love."

"You look awful." She wrapped her fingers around his, gently trapping them like a shy bird.

"I feel awful," he admitted. "But you're alive, so I don't care."

"The children? The Companion?" She knew better than to try and sit up, but that didn't mean the Healer and mother could rest.

"The children are on their way. Gaven went to fetch them. They should be here any time now. The Companion and I talked. As soon as I can get a sling rigged, I'll take care of the less serious injuries. I'll tackle the tendon tomorrow, when I'm stronger."

"Kyminn, we need to send for help," she squeezed his hand.

"I know. But that can't happen until tomorrow. By the time all is said and done today it will be too dark to travel. And if someone is out there slaughtering children on the trail, I'm not sending Gaven or the others. I'll go, but not until I'm sure you're stable and it's safe."

She thought about his words, then nodded reluctantly. She was about to say something but a movement from Tip stopped her. The dog's head came up and his tail wriggled in canine happiness. Moments later, their ears caught the same sound that had gotten Tip's attention. In the distance, a baby was crying. Apparently, Cellen was _mad!"_

She smiled. "Go. I'll wait here."

He paused only long enough to decant some of the pain-draught and pour some into a protesting Raff before leaving the shelter to the welcome sight of the wagon and his family.

"Cydris?" was the first word out of Gaven's mouth as he backed the wagon into place.

"Doing well. She's awake." Kyminn held up a hand to forestall the younger children's eager charges off the wagon. "Children!" They paused at the unaccustomed sharpness in his voice. "Ama is hurt very badly. She is alright, but she must rest. You must be _VERY_ gentle and quiet!"

Startled glances and they nodded as though they understood. It didn't keep them from leaping to the ground and dashing to the shelter, but before Kyminn could reprimand them, they one and all skidded to a halt and with exaggerated tiptoes, crept into the lean to.

Ansen emerged first, the set of his shoulders revealing his relief at seeing his adopted mother was okay. The boy looked at the Companion and then at Kyminn. His tone was one of puzzlement, of 'did you forget to mention something?'. "Da? There's a Companion here."

"She's injured. I'm helping her." Kyminn accepted Gaven's silent offer to unhitch the horses.

Ansen walked over to the Companion. It had taken several moons of patient reminders, but the children rarely called them 'Ghost Horses' any more.

The injured Companion's head came up. Blue eyes met black and held them for a long moment. Kyminn's heart stopped.

Ansen, oblivious, reached up to stroke the velvet nose as blue eyes closed and, with the faintest of headshakes, the Companion dropped her head to accept the offered caress, her shoulders slumping with regret.


	37. Chapter 37

Kyminn watched his son and the Companion, wondering what he had just seen. Or not seen. Maybe it was a figment of his fatigue. He turned away and ducked into the shelter, turning the wailing infant over to Cydris. The babe had missed two feedings and both mother and child were relieved to be reunited.

Kyminn's own relief was brief. He knew that Cydris's ability to feed the child was a temporary measure. She would not heal without rest, and sleep would not be possible without some means of pain relief. The draught which would offer her comfort, however, was dangerous for a small child. In addition, Kyminn doubted any body was strong enough to handle the demands of providing for a hungry infant and healing such a major injury.

It was too big a problem to solve at the moment, for there was too much to do. "Children!" He dropped to his knees so that he could speak to them eye to eye. Carefully, in terms he hoped the would understand, he explained to them about Cydris's injury. He warned them that Raff was badly hurt and they must leave her alone. Finally, he told them about Bull.

He hadn't been sure how they would take it. His children were an odd mix of innocent unworldliness and adult understanding. He had seen them picking up blood-soaked bandages without blinking an eye but be baffled at encountering a cookie. He knew they'd seen death – and worse – but he'd also seen how wholly and completely they gave their trust.

He hadn't expected silence. Tears yes, and there were those in plenty from all three, but the silence was almost eerie.

"Is Ama going to die?" Mehrhet's tone was oddly level. If not for her tears, she might have seemed disinterested. It was a strange dichotomy.

"I don't think so. I hope not." He didn't want to say those words aloud, but it seemed crueler to lie to them. Had they been other than who and what they were, he might have equivocated, but their lives had been formed with harsh clarity and he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"If there is no wound fever and she continues to improve, then in a few days I will know for sure. For now, she is doing well." Infection. Blood clots. Respiratory issues. Tissue death. There were dozens of reasons to fear for her yet.

"What do we do?" Ansen, ever practical.

He sighed and drew them into a tight hug. "We just keep doing the things that need to be done. Can you do that?" He felt three small heads nod and more than one face wipe tears on his shirt.

"Good. Girls, can you please get firewood? Stay nearby and take Jet with you. Tip is also injured and should rest. Ansen, can you please see if the Companion would like to be untacked? Then I need the axe and forage knives." He paused. "All of you, stay away from the other side, where the horse is. I know you've seen dead things and people before, but there's no need you need to see it now. Let it be."

Nods again and released, they darted off. Kyminn drew a deep breath, and then another. Priorities and fears tumbled around in his mind.

"Kyminn? I've unhitched the horses and staked them out to graze. I did Dusty too. What now?" Kyminn closed his eyes and said a small prayer of thanks for Gaven and his children. He heaved himself to his feet and started giving directions.

The remainder of the afternoon was a blur. Gaven up a tree, cutting a notch to hold the sling for the Companion. Firewood, water, forage. Clearing brush as Ansen tried to burp Cellen while the girls hauled the brazier over to where Kyminn would need it for treating the Companion. Trying to find a suitable container for Cydris's needs since she was too weak to make her way to the privy.

The sun was starting to turn the sky orange by the time they were ready to treat the Companion. Kyminn had been shocked when Ansen had said, matter of factly, "Her name is Alyise."

"Did she…tell you that?" Kyminn asked cautiously.

Ansen's expression said clearly that he thought it was a daft question, but he said only "Nooo, I asked her. She spelled it for me. I said the letters and she nodded when I got to the right one." Ansen finished topping up Alyise's water pail.

"Companions can spell?" Gaven's expression said that he clearly believed that the younger boy was pulling his leg.

Kyminn clapped Gaven on the shoulder. "They can. And read too. Companions are _not_ horses. Treat them as though they were humans in horse bodies and you won't go wrong." He offered the Companion a polite half-bow. "I apologize for not asking your name sooner. I'm afraid that I've rather skimped on the courtesies."

A snort and ear-flick. Companion Alyise clearly had no complaints about Kyminn's manners to date.

Kyminn wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed at Ansen's reply. He looked at Gaven and Ansen as the boys waited expectantly. Both had offered to help treat Alyise and Kyminn was unsure of who would be the better choice. After a brief internal struggle, he made up his mind.

"Gaven, I know you have a lot of experience with horses that would be incredibly useful here. I'm worried though about your Gift. It's easy for a new Healer to accidently find themselves open when they encounter an injury. It's especially true when that Healer is tired, stressed or the healing really matters. To be honest, I'm so drained right now that if something happened, I'm not sure I'd notice, much less be able to prevent it. You're doing very well at shielding, but I don't want to put you at any more risk. It was enough of a danger having you help Cydris – and that was with two of us to monitor and protect you. Let's not be careless, alright?"

Gaven was clearly disappointed, but nodded. "Does that mean I can't help care for her?" He stroked the silky hide gently.

"Not at all," a smile. "I expect you'll have your hands full on that front. Just not when I'm treating her wounds. In fact, I'm going to ask you to go cut rather a large amount of forage for her." A sigh. "As well, I'm going to ask you to make sure dinner gets made. The girls will listen to you and I'd rather not have them burning down the wagon by accident if they try to cook."

"I can do that." With a nod, Gaven grabbed up one of the forage knives and went in search of food suitable for a Companion. Good metal indeed!

That done, Kyminn offered Alyise the pain draught he'd prepared earlier. From the Companion's willingness to drain the flask, it was clear the earlier block had worn off.

Fortunately for all of them, the wounds to her neck and side weren't severe, merely deep and painful. Kyminn took advantage of the opportunity to clean the slash on her leg and splint it. That done with Ansen's able help, he left his son wiping down and grooming the dozing Companion.

Finally, reluctantly, he turned his attention to Raff. The faithful dog was where he had left her, eyes glazed with the effect of the pain potion. He didn't need his gift to see the splintered bone gaping from her skin. That and the unnatural torsion of the limb made it clear that there was only one option. Already her foot was cold and grey. Quickly, gently, he completed the amputation, a neat line of stitches marching across her skin.

Another half-dose and Raff was resting comfortably. His last action of the evening, at least on this front, was to pour a dose into Tip and stitch the dog's own injuries. While his were the least severe, he had not gone unmarked and would be days recovering.

Kyminn left the dogs in the makeshift shelter and, in the flickering lantern-light, made his way back to the wagon.

###

In the past few years, Kyminn had become intimately familiar with exhaustion. From travelling with a mentally traumatized Herald through four years of warfare, Kyminn and fatigue were old rivals. It was different, somehow, when it was one's own child crying for comfort and your wife, restless with pain, tossing on the bunk beside you. In the darkness past midnight, after yet another whispered argument over Cydris's refusal to drink the draught which would offer relief, Kyminn rocked his fussy son and gave in to the knowledge there was no one else to share this burden with him.

Check on the Companion. Check on the dogs. Check on Cydris. Try to settle Cellen if he's awake, try to avoid waking him if he's asleep. Gulp down some tea to try and keep your eyes open. Wake from a treacherous doze, checking the night-candle to see if you've overslept your rounds. Crawl to your feet and start the circuit again.

Even the first rays of dawn, welcome as they were, were insufficient to rouse his flagging energy. A mental examination of his strength confirmed what he'd expected – he had little to offer. Still, the tendon could wait no longer, lest it contract beyond repair. He prepared the morning draughts – Alyise, Cydris, the dogs. He added to that the concoction particular to those with Gifts. He would need it for the reaction-headache that was sure to follow this morning's Healing.

Over a breakfast that he didn't taste, he laid out the plans for the day. "Ansen, I'm going to ask your help with Alyise. Once she is taken care of, I'm going to ask you to stay here in the wagon with your mother and brother. Gaven, something occurred to me last night. These attackers – how did they get here? I don't think they flew and I'd be very surprised if they walked.

I'm thinking that if they brought horses and left someone in charge of the beasts, that person is probably long gone, along with the horses and gear. Otherwise, they would have checked by now to see what happened. For all we know, they've already seen us and have taken off to where ever they came from. But if it was only these five…they must have gear around here somewhere. Can you take the girls and look around? I think it's safe enough by now. Be careful though and don't approach any camps you find. Take Jet with you."

Gaven nodded. "We'll be careful. The girls know how to be quiet, don't you?"

His daughters exchanged glances and nodded. Living on the fringes of the Tedrel army had given all the Tedrel children a Collegium-level education in avoiding the notice of dangerous adults. Truthfully, Kyminn believed that there was nothing to worry about. He was quite sure that any attackers were either dead or long since departed. Nonetheless, it would give the three of them something to do and possible garner some information about the area.

"Are you going to get some rest yourself while Ansen watches Cydris?" Gaven asked pointedly.

"Eventually, yes." Kyminn kneaded his temples. "But first I'm going to take care of the murdered boy."

Four heads turned in unison as though they could see through the canvas walls of the wagon to where the boy lay, still trapped beneath his fallen horse. As though on a string, all four turned back to him and nodded in grave understanding.

"Da," It was Niyeh. "While you and Ansen help the Companion, can we," she indicated herself and her sister, "take care of Bull?"

"I can help them with that," Gaven said quietly. "I'll dig the grave for him."

"Thank you," fatigue and emotion roughened his voice.

###

One of the most notable traits of Companions is their extraordinary strength and stamina. Alyise was clearly drawing on that this morning, although she remained somewhat slumped in her makeshift sling. Kyminn furrowed his brow as he looked at the pile of forage before her.

"You should eat," he tried to keep his words gentle. "I should have told you that the pain draught would affect your appetite. How about a compromise? Half a dose now so you're more comfortable and I'll make up a mash, something substantial and easy to eat. You need to keep your strength up." At the Companion's weary nod, Kyminn put the water on while Ansen darted off for the bran and other ingredients for a hearty mash.

Kyminn wasn't opposed to the delay. Watching the Alyise eat gave him more time to recover his own energies. When her head drooped after the second dose, he began.

Tendons are tricky things. In a horse, repair of a fully severed tendon is at best, a 50-50 proposition. For an injury like this, with both tendons sliced through and the bone itself cracked, there would have been only one choice. Thankfully, Companions are _not_ horses.

Kyminn was glad that Alyise was unconscious, for the process of stretching the contracted tendons would have been excruciating. Conscious of his limited strength, he used temporary stitches to hold the tendons in place while he focused his Gift on strengthening the unions. That small effort drained his paltry energies and he completed the rest of the repairs by hand. Lastly, he bound the limb firmly with a splint designed to keep her foot in place. Only then did he let Ansen help him to his feet and accept the flask his son pressed into his hand.

"Thank you Ansen, you did well." His voice sounded far away, faint through the thunder of the reaction headache.

"Da? Are you all right?"

"I will be. I just over did it. This will help," he brandished the flask and, to further reassure his son, took another hearty swig. "I just need to rest for a minute."

"You need to sleep," his son grumbled as he helped his staggering parent over to a nearby seat.

"I will. I promise. Just one more task and then I'll rest. And tomorrow we'll send for help."

He must have dozed off, for the next thing he knew, Gaven was gently shaking his shoulder. Somehow, the brief rest had left him even more tired than before.

"Kyminn, we're ready. Did…did you want to be there?" The boy's face was somber.

"For what?" Kyminn blinked, trying to recollect what Gaven was talking about.

"Bull. We're ready."

"Oh. Yes." Kyminn wobbled to his feet, pretending that his vision wasn't blurry. "Thank you."

It was a brief memorial for a valiant friend. Someone had tracked down a cloth to wrap Bull in and the girls had found flowers to place in the grave. The children took it in turns to speak, but when it came Kyminn's turn, he found himself floundering, trying to encompass their friendship and adventures, the dog's faithful courage and loyalty. He was surprised to find himself smiling at the memory of Bull and Tip accidentally swallowing the travel funds and the subsequent retrieval. It hadn't been amusing at the time, but now it was hilarious. Finally, all he could think of to say was "If I were able to love and serve with half his courage and honesty, I'd count myself twice the man I am now."

Somberly, quietly, they filled the hole, piling rocks over it as protection and memorial.

"Gaven," Kyminn waited until they had returned to the wagon. A brief check told him Cydris and the baby were both asleep. "Before you go, can you harness one of the horses for me?"

Gaven looked surprised, but didn't question. While Gaven and Ansen saw to that, Kyminn looked at Cydris again. Her leg was warmer than he liked. He reapplied the cleansing salve and rebandaged the wound. Hopefully it would be enough, at least for the next few candlemarks.

A wave to send Gaven and the girls on their way and a firm command to Ansen to remain in the wagon until called. Kyminn was going to have to drag the dead horse off the murdered child and Kyminn didn't want the children to see any part of it. He tied a length of rope firmly around the horse's front legs and then laid it out, ready to hook to the ring on his own beast's harness.

Unfortunately, the dray beast was having none of it. The horse could clearly smell its dead fellow and did its utmost to stay as far away from the stench of death as possible. Always Kyminn had been able to rely on his Gifts when his horsemanship skills failed him. Today, his exhaustion had him weeping tears of frustration as he tried to wrangle the horse close enough.

Finally, he had to resort to tripling the length of the line attached to the dead animal, that being as close as he could coerce the dray. It was ungainly and difficult to maneuver the gruesome load, but he succeeded in freeing the boy.

After – thoroughly! – tying the wagon horse to a tree, Kyminn limped back to the fallen lad. With gentle respect, he moved the boy off to one side, straightening the sprawled limbs and covering the remains with a blanket. That done, Kyminn untied the dray once again and urged the animal into motion. It was Kyminn's intention to move the dead horse well into the woods, where the processes of rot and scavengers would happen well away from their camp. Simply untacking the dead animal had been a struggle, but the saddle and gear were too valuable to abandon. Someone would want it back. He had left it in a pile for later retrieval.

The long length between the dray horse and their burden made the process an ordeal. Kyminn had no choice but to drag the horse in a straight line. Kyminn lost track of the times he had to go back and free wayward legs from entangling brush and obstacles. It was mid-morning before he judged that he'd put enough distance between the carrion and the camp. Gratefully, he unhitched the dead beast and made his way back to camp.

"I need a bath," Kyminn muttered as he trudged back. He hadn't had a chance to change since yesterday morning and his clothes were splashed with bloodstains from various sources along with other, less savory effluvia. Even he could smell his own reek.

Had Kyminn been less fatigued, or the reaction-headache been less, he might have noticed when the dray horse brought its ears forward and raised its head a bit. Unfortunately, he missed it completely as he and the horse blithely stepped out of the bush.

There were four of them, and judging from the wet marks on the rocky roadbed from their cart's wheels, they'd crossed the steam just moments ago. Three of them had already hopped down and were taking in the haphazard camp. They had the look of farmers, and Kyminn was well aware that although lacking the discipline and weapons of the guard, farmers were experts with their own tools. An axe or hand scythe could be deadly in the hands of someone with the will to wield it. Judging from the way two of the men were holding axes, they were quite willing to use them as weapons if the situation required.

"Who are you?" It was barely courteous.

"My name is Kyminn Danner," he began.

"Hey! Zack! There's a couple of hacked up dogs in here. I think they're sick or something!" a blond man, thankfully unarmed, was peering into the lean to.

"There was an attack," Kyminn started to explain, "and my dogs got hurt. We…"

The fourth man had dismounted the cart, ground-tying his horse. He was dark haired and stocky and it was he who had spoken. "What attack? Why are you here?"

The blond man had noticed Alyise. "Zack? There's a horse here and it's hurt bad. He's got it all tied up and drugged maybe." The man looked closer. "I think maybe…it might be a Companion."

"Can't be!" one of the axemen scoffed, "Everyone knows you can't catch a Companion!"

Kyminn swivelled his head, trying to keep up with the two men exploring on the area as he tried to answer the questions of Zack and the other man in front of him.

"Well, Kennan, or whatever your name is, is that a Companion or have you stolen someone's horse?" Zack's friend fingered the axe meaningfully.

"I…no, it's a Companion. Her name is Alyise, she was injured in the attack…" Kyminn tried to respond to the barrage of questions.

"Zack!" it was the man who had scoffed at the notion of capturing a Companion. His voice had a strange note. He was kneeling beside the blanket and had flipped it back. "It's Danyel. He's dead. Stabbed." The last was ugly with anger.

Kyminn opened his mouth to explain, but never got the chance. Zack's first blow staggered him and the second drove him to his knees. The dray shied, the lead-rope slipping from Kyminn's fingers and the horse bolted, the flapping harness adding fuel to the animal's fear.

"That's my son, you murdering son of a bitch!" the man was nearly incoherent with rage, blows raining down on Kyminn until the beleaguered Healer fell, curling himself into a ball against Zack's vicious kicks.

"Zack!" the axemen dropped his blade and tried to drag his friend back. "Enough! Kill him and you'll both hang! The bastard will swing for what he did to Danyel. Aye, and for torturing a Companion too."

"DA!" Ansen's shriek of fury rolled across the clearing. The slight child launched himself from the wagon bed, intent only on protecting his father.

One of the farmers, the blond man, tried to intercept Ansen, only to discover that doing so was akin to trying to scruff a wild-cat. Ansen drove a leg back, unerringly hammering the man between the legs. With a howl, the fellow released Ansen and fell to his knees, hands clasped around his agony.

It was just enough of a delay for Kyminn to find his voice. "Stop! Please!" he mumbled through bloodied lips. "Please, we didn't kill your son. No! Please don't hurt my boy!"

The axeman had succeeded in hauling Zack away from his victim and he and the remaining man were firmly restraining the still furious father.

"You're going to hang," the axeman hissed. "And your son can watch you swing."

Kyminn tried to get to his knees, one arm cradled around his ribs. "It wasn't us," he croaked. He stopped, spat to clear the blood from his mouth and spoke again. "We tried to stop it. There were five of them. They killed the boy and attacked the Companion. My wife got hurt in the attack. We're Healers. We tried to save them."

Ansen had dropped down beside Kyminn, his hands wrapped protectively around his father. "The Companion's name is Alyise! My da is Healing her! Our mother is badly hurt and needs help. _They,_ " and he jerked his chin to where the dead attackers were piled, " _they_ killed your son. The Companion tried to protect your boy. I think maybe he was special."

Zack gave a sob. "He was special. We wouldn't have let him go, but it was just to take the seed to the Trather's homestead 'cause they were short this season and he's made the trip before. When he didn't come back, we came for him." He glared at Kyminn, "And if you killed him…"

"We didn't, I swear." Kyminn used Ansen's help to return to his feet. "You need to send for the Guard. And a Healer and a Herald. Please." Already one eye was swollen shut.

"Oh, we will." It was the man who had found Danyel and his tone was grim. "In the mean time, you'll be coming back with us."

Kyminn tried to shake his head in negation, but stopped when doing so made him woozy. "I can't. We can't. My wife needs a Healer and the Companion can't travel. We have to stay here."

The two men, still supporting the sobbing Zack, exchanged glances. After a whispered consultation, the axeman shrugged. "Fine. But we'll be keeping your horses back at the village in the meantime. If your wife is as sick as you say, I don't see you taking off and getting very far on foot."

Kyminn gave a single nod, which was all he dared.

The axeman glanced around. "Is this all of you? You, your wife and the boy?"

Another injudicious headshake and Kyminn wobbled. "No. We have an infant, our two daughters and our…ward."

The men missed the hesitation. "Where are they?"

"They went for a walk, to see if the attackers left a trail. They'll be back soon."

"Then they can wait here with you, surety against your continued good behaviour."

Kyminn remembered not to nod this time.


	38. Chapter 38

For the interminable remainder of that morning, the four men poked around the campsite while Kyminn talked himself hoarse answering the same questions over and over again. He took no satisfaction in the men's nauseated reaction on discovering the attackers' remains. One of the farmers followed the drag marks into the woods, verifying Kyminn's claim of having disposed of the dead horse.

Ansen remained protectively close to Kyminn, his eyes dark with anger at the intrusion and their treatment. The blond man that Ansen had kicked, Keill, limped about angrily, his glances boding ill for Ansen should the boy fall into his hands again.

Kyminn rested on the wagon steps. In spite of his exhaustion, he didn't dare fall asleep and leave the men unobserved. More relevantly, he was fairly sure he was suffering a concussion along with the cracked ribs and other bruises.

"What did you do to the Herald?" It was the axeman, Darred again. To the man's credit, he was deeply incensed at the idea that someone might have harmed a Herald. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to grasp the concept that Companions were more than capable of traveling about on their own to Choose their own Heralds.

"I told you, there isn't one. It was just the Companion. She doesn't have a Herald yet." He tried to keep the irritation from his voice.

"Companions only carry their Heralds. Everybody knows that."

This was mostly true, albeit with some extraordinary exceptions, but Kyminn didn't see any point in explaining. Since Darred hadn't asked a question, Kyminn said nothing.

"So the Herald must be around here somewhere. You've done something to the Companion to keep her from her Herald."

"I did do something to the Companion. I Healed her. But I couldn't complete the Healing so I used medicines. Do you really think I'd be able to force a Companion to drink something against her will?"

"You might, if she was badly injured and you were threatening her Herald," Darred pointed out.

"I didn't. And you've seen the bits and pieces that she left of those men. She's clearly not so badly injured if she can do that." It was terse.

"But what did you do to the Herald?" And it began again.

Eventually, under the vigilant supervision of Darred and his fellow axeman Lem, Kyminn was allowed to check on Alyise and the dogs. It frightened him how much he had to rely on Ansen's support to move about. It frightened him even more to check on Cydris and feel how hot she was.

After his desperate urging, Zack and Darred agreed to move Cydris out of the cloying environment of the wagon and under a canvas shelter. Not only did it give Kyminn more light to clean her wound, it made it easier for Ansen to apply the cooling compresses.

"Hoi! Wagon coming!" Lem's shout pulled Kyminn's attention away from Cydris. Now what? Painfully, he turned to look, letting Ansen's firm hand on his shoulder halt his initial instinct to get to his feet.

Gaven, moving carefully and patiently, was leading a team and wagon. Three saddled horses trailed behind, tethered firmly to the wagon. Mehrhet and Niyeh, hot and cranky, walked beside.

This time, Ansen helped Kyminn up instead of preventing him. He stuck close by though, letting Kyminn lean on him for support.

"Gav…Trevik?" Kyminn caught himself. 'Gaven Ashkevron' had passed through here nearly a month before. They were travelling with the gamekeeper's boy – Trevik Kuchin.

Gaven halted on seeing the strangers. From his vantage point, the young Healer couldn't see Kyminn's battered face, but his mentor's awkward stance and Ansen's tension was more than enough to tell him that something was badly amiss.

"Kyminn?" There was a wealth of meaning in the question. Should they turn and flee? Gaven glanced at the girls, then back at Kyminn.

A headshake and a brief, beckoning gesture told Gaven to proceed, which the youngster did, cautiously. As they drew closer and Kyminn's bloody face registered, Gaven stiffened with fear and anger. The girls made to bolt towards Kyminn but a hissed word from Gaven brought them up short. Niyeh started to whine but Mehrhet silenced her.

"These are them?" Zack indicated the trio.

"Yes. Our daughters, Mehrhet and Niyeh and our ward, Trevik." The children had been schooled on the use of the alias for the duration of the journey and had used it without fail in every encounter thus far. Would they remember now?

"Where'd them horses come from then?" Keill eyed Gaven suspiciously.

"I'd like that answer myself," Kyminn rasped tiredly.

"Kyminn asked us to go for a walk." Gaven nodded and the girls resumed their interrupted greetings, moving more prudently now. "He wondered how they," a jerk of his head at the corpses in the woods made the meaning clear, "got here. Either they had friends who would have skedaddled by now or they had gear stashed somewhere. Turns out they had gear."

"What took you so long?" Kyminn let his anxiety show.

"He said we had to water the horses first," Niyeh complained. "And we weren't allowed to ride in the wagon. We had to walk."

"They left the horses tied tight, with no water or graze. Seemed pretty obvious they didn't plan to be here long. There was no camp or anything, just everything you see here. The poor animals were nearly mad with thirst after more than a day tied up.

"I wasn't sure I could control them if we tried to lead them to water and I was damn sure I wouldn't be able to keep them from drinking too much, so we found a canvas bucket in the gear and searched out a stream. It took us a lot of trips before we got them watered and got some grain into them."

The farmers exchanged grudging nods at the explanation.

"But why walk back?" Darred nodded at the wagon.

"I wasn't sure I could handle five unfamiliar horses. For certain sure the girls couldn't! I didn't want to risk the girls in a runaway if anything happened. One horse or maybe two I'd have considered it, but not five." Gaven watched as the four strangers examined the wagon and horses.

"Zack?" Lem was chewing his lip thoughtfully. "These look familiar to you?"

A reluctant nod. "I think it's them traders that were here about three sennights ago. I wasn't sure when I saw the bodies – they're too far gone, but aye, I recognize the wagon sure enough."

The others nodded agreement. Any stranger in these remote parts would attract notice and clearly, these men had been remembered.

"I remember I bought some thread off'n them for my wife's sewing," Darred added. "It was a colour she'd not seen much of and she was happy to get it. Traded some good hunting arrows for it."

"Hunting arrows?" Kyminn straightened up, inhaling sharply at the result. "Ansen, bring me the bag we put away. You know the one I mean?"

Ansen nodded and darted into the wagon, emerging with a carefully tied bundle. Kyminn undid the knots and gently unrolled the fabric.

"Is this yours?" He handed Darred the bloodstained arrow.

"Aye, the shaft and fletching is, but this isn't my head. Mine were simple caps for birds and the like."

Keill took the shaft and examined it. With a grunt, he handed it back. "Easy enough to slide this head over yours. Probably still there if you checked." He made to pull out his belt knife.

"Don't!" The order burst out before Kyminn had a chance to be diplomatic. "If that's true, the Guard will want to know. Let them do it."

Keill curled his lip in disdain, but assented when the others nodded agreement with Kyminn's words.

"Where'd you get this arrow?" Darred seemed reluctant to give it back.

"It was sticking out of my wife." It was a snarl.

Darred glanced at Cydris, fitfully dozing in the shade and back at Kyminn. "So you claim. For all I know, they were defending themselves."

Kyminn's laugh was a harsh bark. He waved his hand to encompass the meager campsite. "My wife and I, along with five children – one of them a babe – managed to ambush and kill five men, Zack's son, a horse, and a Herald? Along with capturing and drugging a Companion?"

"By your own admission, you killed three men at least." Zack was bitter in his anger and grief.

"My horse trampled one and the dogs killed two. The Companion killed two. The strangers killed Danyel and his horse. They killed one of the dogs and nearly killed another. They are the ones that attacked the Companion and for the last time, _there was no Herald_." Kyminn was drained of emotion. "Just let me care for my wife and the rest of the injured while you do what you need to in order to bring the Guard and a Herald. Please."

The four strangers withdrew to talk. Kyminn didn't bother to listen, or wait for the outcome. Instead, he did his best to reassure Gaven and the others, warning them that the men would be taking the horses for the time being. Niyeh, fretful, clung close, seeking reassurance. Her brother and sister, on the other hand, managed their anxiety through action, undertaking the myriad tasks for camp life. Ansen made sure to stick close to Gaven – and as far away from Keill as possible. The farmer still looked as though he would be all too happy to get some of his own back at Ansen's expense.

After considerable argument and many glances over to Kyminn and the children, the four made up their minds. Zack and Keill (to Kyminn's relief) would return to the village. They would send for the Guard and return with support. At least all of them agreed that the motley travellers and the injured Companion would have to remain in place for the time being.

Zack and Keill took Danyel's body back with them, along with the stranger's horses and the Danner's three. The cart horse who'd fled had been located, the trailing lines having gotten tangled in the brush. Lem and Darred seemed to feel that Kyminn posed no risk, for they didn't object when he made his tottering rounds to see to his patients. The sole requirement the men had was that Jet be firmly tied. Although the animal was young, she was clearly protective of Kyminn and his family.

"Kyminn? Alyise is waking up. What should we do?" Gaven found Kyminn resting in a folding chair beside Cydris.

"I should explain to her what's going on," Kyminn started to get up. Gaven pushed him back down.

"You said…to treat her like a person. Did you mean that? I always thought it was the Heralds who made the Companions understand."

A weak smile. "The other way around is more like it. Most who are Chosen as Heralds have little idea of what it means or what it involves. The Companions know, though. They help the Heralds understand what it's all about. It's a unique partnership."

"So she'll understand if I tell her what's happening?"

"Yes…" Kyminn hesitated. "Just…make sure to tell her that the Guard and a Herald have been sent for. I have no idea how she'll feel knowing that we're being treated like suspects."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she might be angry. Or protective. Or insulted. Or maybe she's willing to wait for the Herald and trust that it will all work out. I have no idea. Companions are all different."

"I see." Gaven was thoughtful.

Kyminn started to rise again. "I should go…"

"You should NOT. I can do this. I've been to enough formal dinners with father and mother that I know how to mind what I say and how I say it."

Kyminn wanted to object, but couldn't find the strength. "Fine. Just…"

Gaven nodded. Kyminn watched carefully as Gaven tended the Companion as she shook off the last of the draught. Judging from Gaven's stance, the boy initially found the one-sided conversation strange. Gradually however, as Alyise made her own feelings clear through a tilt of the head, an ear flick or headshake, Gaven relaxed into a more natural discussion.

Alyise clearly wasn't happy at the recent developments, but seemed willing to adopt a 'wait and see' approach for the time being. Kyminn let himself turn his attention to his myriad other worries.

By late evening, the wagon returned. This time it brought the village headman and a couple of level-headed young men to not only handle security but also manage the majority of the work. Whatever else Zack and Keill might have reported, at least they'd conveyed that the suspects were in no shape to fend for themselves.

Most importantly as far as Kyminn was concerned was the arrival of the village herb-healer and a volunteer wet-nurse. With the extra help for Cydris and Cellen, Kyminn would – finally! – be able to rest.

# # #

For the next two days, time hovered in a precarious balance. Cydris continued to battle the infection, but grew neither better nor worse. Kyminn himself slept nearly round the clock. He'd started to explain that he was to be wakened up every candlemark for the first night, but Evie, the herb-healer, interrupted him.

"I know the way of it. Wake ye to make sure you've not gone wobbly in the head. Need to make sure you still know what's about. Although," and it was knowing, "If'n I ask you who the most beautiful woman here is and you don't say my name, well, I'll know you've gone wobbly!" And she chortled, her weathered face splitting open to reveal her gap-toothed smile.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Kyminn found himself smiling. "I'll remember that. But if I say it's my wife, you'll understand it's only because it's my duty as a husband, yes?"

Her answering cackle echoed through the camp.

# #

To Kyminn's profound relief, the Guard brought their Healer. Within a few candlemarks of that worthy's arrival, Cydris was finally resting normally. As for Kyminn's own injuries, the Healer confirmed that Kyminn had, in fact suffered a minor concussion along with the two broken ribs. Healer Vettry prescribed an additional few days of rest, but conceded that sitting in a chair in the shade would be sufficient for recovery.

With the health of the patients/prisoners assured, the Guard lost no time in commencing their own investigation. There were no longer bodies available to investigate by this point though. Darred and Lem had tried to bury the rapidly decaying remains but found themselves thwarted by the rocky and root-bound soil. They'd had to resort to a pyre instead and the attackers were now nothing more than good clean ash.

Darred and Lem had managed to contain their curiosity about the attacker's wagon, simply covering it with canvas against the weather. The guard had carefully examined and inventoried the contents while Healer Vettry was seeing to the injured.

"Kyminn Danner, my name is Captain Lucia Fallichan. I will be conducting this inquiry." They were sitting under the canvas shelter, Kyminn and the Captain in camp chairs. A clerk sat nearby, making notes on a small portable desk. It made an incongruous sight.

"I understand, Captain. And I want to thank you for all you've done for me and my family."

"Don't thank me yet, there's still a lot of unanswered questions. I should tell you that I have seen the Companion Aylise. Healer Vettry tells me she has been very ably treated and seems to have no objection to her current situation. I will admit that having the Companion be willing to accept that you have strung her up like child's swing makes me very interested to hear your story."

It took some time. Kyminn walked the Captain through events, starting with his Foresight of the attack. After the first telling, she had him repeat it, questioning him closely on some of the details. Finally, the Captain thanked and dismissed the clerk, sitting back to regard Kyminn thoughtfully.

"At the moment, I'm not prepared to make a final decision. Since there is a Companion involved, I'm going to leave that up to the Herald. Of my own inclination, I'd say you were telling the truth. I served during the war and I've seen Companions and Gifts in action. Alyise's behaviour strongly supports your account. Which leads me to another question – what is the status of the Companion's recovery?"

"As Healer Vettry said, she's doing well. The only reason she's not on her own four legs is that the initial Healing of her bone and tendon are very preliminary. As soon as the Healer permits, I will see to that leg. I gather he wasn't able to help?"

A headshake. "Vettry tells me his Gift doesn't work on animals." Kyminn tried, but couldn't quite conceal a wince at her choice of words.

"His word, not mine." Another headshake. "I'm not sure I quite believe this notion that Companions are as smart as their Heralds, but I'm willing to admit they are more than just extraordinary horses."

Kyminn didn't bother to waste his breath in arguing. "I expect that she will be able to stand on her own within two or three days of concerted Healing. However, that tendon is going to need strengthening and care over the next few sennights." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. "Huh. I never thought of that. Every other time that I have treated a serious injury in a Companion – something that needed an extended course of treatment and rehabilitation – there has been a Herald involved. The Herald works _with_ the Companion to accomplish recovery. To be honest, I have no idea how it is going to work for an unpartnered Companion."

Captain Fallichan blew out her breath in a gusty sigh. "Well, you just entered realms outside my range. I suggest we leave those questions until the Herald gets here."

And Kyminn had to agree.

# # #

It took an further six days for the Herald to arrive. By then, both Cydris and Alyise were back on their feet – although on a cautious and limited basis in each case. Captain Fallichan and her team had even gone so far as to retrace the Danner's route back to the point that he'd received the Foresight. They had then walked through his version of events, this time with Alyise's cooperation. The Danner's status had shifted in that time from 'prisoner' to 'suspect' to 'significant witness', an extremely relieving development.

Kyminn gathered with the others to watch the arrival of the Herald. As they approached, something about the Herald seemed familiar. As Kyminn caught a glimpse of the autumn-hued braid, his face creased into a smile.

"Captain, my name is Herald Tarva and this is Aelish. I understand you have need of us?"

"Very much so. This is going to take a while…"

The Herald dismounted and the two women conferred quietly. Tarva nodded, and in a voice pitched for the attentive listeners, said "As you say, we'll be here for a bit. Thank you for making accommodations ready for us. I'll see to Aelish and then you can present your information."

The Captain had arranged to have a tent set up a short distance away. Close enough to be convenient, separate enough for some privacy. An open-sided shelter beside it had been raked and leveled for the Companion's comfort. An offer for assistance in grooming was politely declined.

Now it was just the waiting. Kyminn had no concerns about Tarva's findings as to their innocence. His sole interest was the attackers themselves and the murder of Danyel Frie.

Apparently, the Herald agreed with him. The next morning, she gathered the group of Guard, travellers and villagers and made an announcement.

"After extensive discussion with the Captain and an initial review of her investigation, it is clear to me that there are only two questions here and, most likely, they are the same question. They are 'Who killed Danyel Frie? And Who attacked the Companion Alyise?" She paused, but only silence responded. "As to the first question, his family and village have the right to see justice decided. On the second question, I believe that its answer will follow the first. Accordingly, since I am assured that all the injured are now fit to travel, we will be moving these proceedings to the village of Stonecroft."

Cydris raised her hand in question and Tarva nodded.

"Understand that I'm not objecting or arguing, Herald Tarva. My question is a practical one. How is my family going to travel? Our horses are still at the village for safe-keeping." She managed to say this last bit with a commendable lack of irony.

"You will travel in the Guard wagons, along with sufficient goods to last you for a day or so. A detachment of Guard will remain behind with your wagon and the one belonging to the traders. The Captain will arrange to have both brought as soon as feasible. Will that suffice?"

"It does, thank you."

Days of camp sprawl were reduced to neat bundles within two candlemarks. Kyminn and Cydris both knew their still-limited mobility would be of little help in the process so they confined their assistance to packing their own gear and stowing the contents of the wagon. Even in that part Gaven firmly shooed them outside and out of his way.

"I don't see Alyise." Although the Companion was mobile, she was not yet fully recovered and he still considered her a patient.

"She went on ahead. She'll meet us there. Aelish says to tell you that Alyise promised not to exceed your instructions." Years of experience had the Herald and Companion amongst the first prepared.

"Thank you. I always wonder when I suggest something to a Companion. I'm never sure if my advice is going to be followed or not." A rueful smile took any unintended sting out of the comment.

"Aelish and Alyise have had some long talks, or so I'm told. Some of it catching up, but you figure prominently in some of the content."

"I've often been told that Companions have a tendency to gossip."

A faint smile. "Family reunion. Aelish is Alysie's aunt. Sister to Aelish's dam."

"Of course. That makes it not gossip then." Kyminn hesitated. "Is it…can I ask…was the boy Danyel…?"

"Was he going to be Chosen, you mean?"

Kyminn nodded.

"Aelish tells me that a Companion has a…sense…that a certain person is right for them. None of us knows how it works and they can't - or won't – explain it. It's as though each Companion has their own lodestone and it draws them towards a particular person. It might waver a bit before it settles on the one that's right for them, but I gather it's something like that.

"Sometimes it takes a long time and the Companion may encounter several people who come close, but aren't 'the one'. For Danyel, I suspect that if not Alyise, then another Companion would have come in the very near future."

Kyminn rubbed a hand over his face, weary of the whole puzzle. "And yet they killed him. Why him? How did they know?"

"Indeed." Tarva looked over at him. "Alyise supports your story, by the way. And while the word of a Companion is all the crown needs, the citizens need a bit more than that. So this hearing is not just a formality. You understand that? It is vital that justice be done and be seen to be done fairly and openly."

"I do understand, really I do." He nodded, for he did.

# # #

Stonecroft was, as its name suggested, built out of the native granite that scattered the landscape. The land was too rocky for much more than vegetable farming and goats, but there was evidence of mines in the hillsides and in the distance, a curious rumble.

"What's that noise?" Gaven twisted his head, looking for the source of the thunder.

One of the guardsmen grinned. "Tis the gravel mill! They crush the mine tailings into gravel and sell it to the crown for roads and such. It makes a dreadful racket so they set it away upstream. That sound you hear is a good two miles off!"

Gaven merely shook his head in surprise and Kyminn grinned. If the lad thought a gravel mill was a wonder, then Haven would knock him out of his saddle!

The sun was barely up when the villagers started to gather and by the appointed eighth hour, the square was full.

"We are here today to try and determine who murdered Danyel Frie and who attacked the Companion Alyise." Alyise tossed her head and a half-sigh, half murmur rippled through the crowd.

Tarva let it die down before continuing. "Of the eight persons involved in the attack, only two survived to provide testimony. However, there is additional evidence which we must also consider. We are going to start with what the evidence shows us. I call Sergeant Yarrow to the stand."

Sergeant Yarrow could have been popped out of a mold – "Guard Sergeant, weather-worn and leather lunged, one each." He saluted the Herald and Captain respectfully and assumed a position of parade rest off to one side.

"Sergeant, have you ever seen the Truth Spell used?"

"No Herald, but I've heard tales." If the prospect of being under some mystical influence worried him, he hid it well.

Tarva nodded, pitching her voice to reach the entire square. "I am going to impose the first level Truth Spell. It won't hurt and you won't see anything. Everyone else will see a blue glow around you, like a fog. As long as you are truthful, the glow will remain. If you lie, it will disappear and be obvious to everyone. Understand?"

A brief nod and the crowd ooh'd in wonder as the glow settled around the soldier. Tarva quickly ran through the basics of name, rank and posting and then she got to the investigation.

"Sergeant Yarrow, why were you sent to the crossing?"

"Orders, ma'am." The crowd chuckled. "We were told that there had been an attack and that a local boy and some travellers had been killed. It was our understanding that the attackers had been injured in the fight and the villagers had them in custody."

"Tell me what you found when you got there. Walk us through what you saw and did."

Sergeant Yarrow's words offered a detailed picture of the scene: the wagons, the Companion in a tree, a sick woman and a man who'd clearly suffered a beating. Under Tarva's prompting, Yarrow told how the Captain had had them treat the injured and begin the investigation.

"What was your part in this, Sergeant?"

"Well, we haven't a scout, you see? But I'm country bred and grew up hunting for my supper so I'm a pretty decent tracker. So the Captain had me look about to see if I could figure out what happened. First off, I followed the one group back. It was easy to see where they'd had a wagon and horses tied. Judging from the marks and the amount of dung, we guessed they'd been there a day or so. There was another trail, this one newer. Two, maybe three kids. Going back and forth to a stream. Then the tracks had the kids and horses mixed together and we followed those back to the crossing."

"And the people who were with the horses?"

"Those were pretty easy to follow at first. They travelled together from where they'd left the horses to the edge of the trees. There were a lot of tracks there, like they walked around a bit. Then the tracks lead over to the road and we lost them on the rocks."

The crowd sighed in disappointment.

"Is that all?"

He shook his head. "No, Herald. We picked up one of the trails again, on the other side of the road. It went into the woods and stopped at an overlook. Whoever it was, they settled in for a while. There was branches broken to make sure there was a clear view of the crossing and rocks moved to make a place to kneel."

"Kneel?"

"Aye, Herald. When someone kneels, their knees and toes dig in first. Even if you sit back on your heels, those first marks are deepest. Someone kneeled there for a time."

"And how many people would you say you were tracking?"

"Five, Herald. There was five different sets. We were careful to check."

The crowd was nodding thoughtfully. Zack Frie stood near the front, one arm wrapped around a woman – presumably his wife – as they listened to the Sergeant's testimony.

"Thank you Sergeant, keep going please."

"We went back along the other track as well. We found a place where a wagon – a big one – had been hauled off the road. Someone had cut brush, maybe to hide it. Can't say for sure, but there was enough cut to do the job.

"We also found a place where someone tied up a pair of horses – big ones. These weren't here that long and all the footprints was small except one that was bigger. We found three small and the one bigger set there, but. There was also another, smaller horse, moving between the kids, the wagon and the road. This one left deep tracks, like someone heavy was riding."

"Are you sure it was a heavy rider?"

A headshake. "No, Herald. There's no way to tell. It could have been one person and a couple of kids. Or two adults. The tracks weren't clear. I just know the animal had a load."

"Do you know where that horse went?"

"Yes, Herald. I couldn't track it on the road – the road was too hard for that. But it was easy to see where it left the road. Deep tracks, like someone dug spurs in. Then a straight shot at a gallop. There was no attempt to hide, my lady. Broken branches, gouges in the dirt – whoever was on that horse was in a tearing hurry. There was a bunch of dog tracks too, following the horse or running alongside.

"We found where the horse stopped – pulled up short, it did. Someone jumped off, an adult to judge by the tracks. That person and at least one dog went into the woods. If that person used a bow, they wouldn't have had a very good shot. They weren't set up very long. Something happened and they took a wound – a bad one. There was a lot of blood. Can't tell much more than that. There was a lot of coming and going afterwards."

As the Sergeant's testimony continued, he described what the tracks had showed: the horse continuing on and trampling somebody, one of the original five leaving the woods and a scuffle that ended in a dead horse. Dog tracks everywhere. By the time he was done, it was clear that as far as the Guard could see, the five men had lain in wait and, for reasons unknown, killed Danyel.

Cydris's testimony was equally straightforward. Once her bona fides had been established, she told of the Foresight and the steps they had taken to protect the children. As for her part in the battle, it had consisted mostly of some bow work and then a lot of bleeding.

Tarva called a break at that point and they stopped for lunch. Most of the village remained in place, sending a family member home for food. No one wanted to give up their place or miss any part of the proceedings. Gaven, somewhat to Kyminn's surprise, appeared with food for himself and Cydris. The Trainee had prepared enough for Tarva, but in the interest of neutrality, the Herald declined. Instead, the Herald ate the food she brought with her.

Now it was Kyminn's turn. His testimony was considerably longer and more involved since he had participated in most of the events. No one was surprised at this point when his version of events matched that of the guard. Many in the crowd sobbed openly when he described Danyel's death and the Companion's valiant efforts to protect him.

When Kyminn finished, the square was silent aside from quiet weeping.

"It is my finding," Tarva's voice was oddly loud in the silence, "that Danyel Frie was attacked and murdered by a group of five assailants. This same group also attacked the Companion Alyise, causing serious injury. The reason for these attacks is unknown at this time.

Kyminn Danner and Cydris Danner are cleared of any suspicion or wrongdoing. They are to be commended for their attempts to save Danyel and the Companion. They have the thanks of the crown for their efforts."

Tarva addressed the crowd again. "Zack Frie, come forward."

Shoulders slumping, the sobbing man did as he was told.

"Zackkery Frie, did you attack Kyminn Danner, in the belief that it was he who had killed your son?"

The man nodded but didn't look up.

"Healer Danner, do you wish to press charges against this man?"

Kyminn glanced at Cydris. While she understood what had driven Zack's anger, she was still angry on Kyminn's behalf.

He cleared his throat. "If I may ask a question?" At Tarva's nod, Kyminn continued. "I would ask if anyone can speak to this man's character. Is he rash and quick to anger? Or thoughtful and with a respected opinion?"

The crowd muttered and shifted for a few moments and then seemed to come to a consensus. The headman strode forward and gave the Herald a respectful bow. "I've been asked to speak to Zack's character." When she nodded, the man turned to Kyminn.

"If you were to ask me – and you have – were Zack Frie a good man, I'd say he was as good as most. He's no Herald," a titter from the crowd answered this remark, "but he's better by a lot from the worst. He likes his ale, but not so much that his family suffers for it. Before this, he's never raised a hand to any man or woman. His family isn't what you'd call well off, but they do alright. He can't lend you a copper, but he'll pick rocks with you all day if you have the need. Ask anyone and they'll tell you he's a passionate man who's not afraid to give you his opinion, oh, aye that. But it's an opinion more or less worth listening to for the most part."

Kyminn sighed and was quiet for a moment. Then, "Zack, speaking as a father, I understand. Were I in your shoes, I'm certain I would have felt every drop of the same anger and grief. But I don't know that I'd have attacked someone over it. I can't say, but I like to hope I wouldn't have." He turned his head back to the adjudicator's table. "I know that this man and his family have suffered, and I don't want to add to their burden. We didn't go after Danyel to be thanked afterwards – we tried to prevent a tragedy. And, it should be said, that Zack's actions could have had terrible consequences."

Zack still wasn't looking up, but he flinched under the blow of Kyminn's words.

"Herald Tarva, is there…is it possible for there to be consequences that consider the circumstances? I'd rather see mercy than punishment."

"Zackkery Frie, look at me." Tarva's command pulled the man's head up until he met her gaze. The blue glow of the Truth Spell settled around him.

"Zakkery Frie, you are hereby charged with Common Interference. This is a broad charge and can be applied in circumstances as minor as egging a house to as grave as manslaughter." She paused to let that sink in.

"Because it is such a broad charge, it is often used in situations like this, where an action could have ended in tragedy. Due to the nature of this statute, the penalties I can impose are equally broad. Under this rule I could confine you for up to five years and seize all your goods. I can also choose to impose no penalty, or a penalty of my own devising. For that reason, you are not required to accept this charge. You have the right to be charged under a more standard clause, one with defined penalties. I will warn you now though, that if you decline to accept the charge of Common Interference, I would instead apply a charge of Aggravated Assault or Interference with the Crown. Zackkery Frie, do you accept the charge of Common Interference?"

"I do." It was a whisper.

"Very well. Zackkery Frie, you have previously admitted to attacking Kyminn Danner. Do you stand by that admission?"

"Yes, Herald."

"This is my judgement then. Your actions directly interfered with the Healer's ability to treat the Companion Alyise. I am advised that the wounds you inflicted were not the sole reason for the delay, so I cannot find you fully liable. However, the Healer continues to suffer the effects of your actions and will for some time, for at least another fortnight until his ribs heal. As the Healer has requested leniency, I am not going to consider that time when I calculate your penalty.

"Following your attack, the Healer was not able to resume his duties for six days. I am going to double that time to twelve days. Zackkery Frie, you are going to commit yourself to the service of your village for twelve days – 120 candlemarks. You have four moons to complete this service and a record is to accompany the semi-annual accounting. Do you understand?"

"I do, Herald." His voice was stronger now and the relief was evident. The blue glow vanished and settled around Kyminn once more.

"Healer Danner, do you accept this judgement?"

"I do," he said firmly.

"Very well. Have you anything to add to this investigation which you have not already brought forward?" It was a routine question.

Damn and blast.

The blue glow vanished.

Tarva's eyes widened in surprise. Brow furrowing, she invoked the Truth Spell once again.

"I will repeat the question." Her tone was dark as she glowered at Kyminn. "Have you anything to add to this investigation which you have not already brought forward?"

"Yes. And no!" he hastened to add. "I have withheld information. I have NOT withheld information about who killed Danyel or attacked Alyise." The blue glow remained steady.

The Herald's eyes narrowed. "Rather than compel you, I'll ask you this – why have you withheld information?"

Kyminn didn't try to hide his relief that she was willing to _ask_ first. "Under orders from my Circle, Herald. And yours as well."

The excited babble of the crowd over-rode any response Tarva might have made. "Enough!" It wasn't a shout, but it worked nonetheless.

"The purpose of this hearing was to learn who killed Danyel Frie and who attacked the Companion Alyise. Those questions having been answered, and the subsequent matter of the assault on Healer Danner having been decided, those matters are now closed. The investigation into the attackers' motives remains open, but I want you to know that we want an answer as badly as you. As for any other matters which may have come up," she avoided looking at Kyminn, "those will be dealt with in a more suitable location. This judgment is concluded."

# # #

"Alright Healers, we're listening." They had adjourned to the borrowed stable that housed Aelish and Alyise. It was as private as they were likely to get, given the circumstances.

"We don't know why Danyel was attacked. We think it's possible it was linked to other attacks on Gifted. And it's the reason that we didn't tell the Captain that Trevik isn't a gamekeeper's son. He's Gaven Ashkevron, youngest son of Lord Caridoc and a prospective Healer Trainee."

With that, he launched into an explanation of the investigation thus far, the attacks they'd experienced, the Foresight and the decoy. By the end, even the experienced Herald was looking shocked.

"Good gads! How did we not know about this?"

Aelish flattened her ears and looked guilty. Tarva spun around and stared at her. "You….!" The rest was silent, but it was clear the Herald was giving her partner a piece of her mind. Literally. Finally, she sighed.

"I still don't agree, and this isn't the end of it. I asked her if 'Gaven Ashkevron' had arrived in Haven yet. She doesn't know and neither does Alyise."

Kyminn huffed in frustration. "I would very much like to know that. Did they make an attempt on the decoy? Why Danyel? Was he their second choice? Were they waiting for us? How to they pick their victims? Why?"

Another silent conversation ensued, ending when both Companions shrugged and shook their heads.

"They don't know either." Tarva restated the obvious.

"Damn." He sighed. "Are we off the hook at least?"

"You are. We all agree on that. Does the Captain know who Trevik Kuchin really is?"

The two Healers shook their heads in unison.

"Good. We'll leave it that way. I will make sure my report reflects the truth. In the meantime, tomorrow we start going through everything you got from the attackers. I want Danyel Frie to be the last child these bastards get."

# # #

It was strange to be indoors after all this time. Their wagon still hadn't arrived and the family had been installed in the tiny inn. There wasn't much traffic through Stonecroft and only the one loft for them to share. Fortunately, they were the only guests, Tarva having withdrawn to the nearby waystation.

The children were sound asleep and Cydris had dozed off, Cellen sprawled on her chest. Kyminn was still awake, the unanswered questions chasing themselves around in his head. Quietly, he unwrapped the bundle of goods they'd taken from the assailants. With a grimace, he set aside the arrow which had so nearly taken Cydris's life. Instead, he examined the remainder.

The wedding ring seemed innocuous enough. Kyminn was no metalsmith but he guessed it to be a mixture of gold and copper. He had no way to guess its value and the blank band offered no clues about the man who had worn it.

The good luck tokens were more interesting. Each was made of two thin wooden disks glued together. The top disk was divided into three rings, cleverly grooved so that they interlocked but could spin around the center. Each was a different colour and decorated with lines, shapes, and icons. He amused himself for a bit by spinning the disks around to create interesting patterns. Once he had made a pattern he liked, he dug out the second disk, intending to make it match.

He went to set the second disk down and frowned. He must have bumped his first design, for the pattern had come apart. He picked up the token to reset the pattern but as he did so, the rings began to shift.

He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as the rings on the token he was holding moved of their own accord, twisting and reforming until they settled in a line. A glance over at the token in his other hand showed that it had formed the same pattern – a straight line.

Pointing directly at Gaven.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

"Mehrhet, Niyeh, enough!" Kyminn pointed to a spot further down along the bench, where Niyeh would be unable to continue the foot-duel beneath the table with her sister. His daughter obliged readily enough and moved on to rearranging the serving dishes so that all the utensils lined up.

Between the children's energy and the bundle pressed against his stomach, Kyminn found himself unable to concentrate on breakfast. Carrying the uncanny amulets on his person made him profoundly uneasy, but it seemed better than having them in the hands of someone else.

"Kyminn, are you even listening to me?" Cydris's tone wasn't sharp. Yet.

"I'm trying," was the honest reply. He slid more dishes towards Niyeh to keep her occupied.

"I was wondering," and this time she was unhappy, but not at his lack of attention. "About your treatment of Zakkery Frie."

"Huh?" He was startled enough to focus his attention on her. "You think I was too hard on him?"

"What? No!" A headshake of negation. "I think you were far too easy on him, if I'm being honest. You're going to suffer for his behaviour far longer than he will. I don't think that's fair."

Kyminn set his fork down and folded his hands in his lap. His answer was quiet. "I know it isn't. And that's why it had to be that way. Cydris, I'm still deeply angry at Zack Frie. I _understand_ his actions, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven them. I'm a stubborn bastard sometimes, as you well know. And much as I try not to hold a grudge, sometimes I struggle with that. Among other flaws, I can be over-focused and impetuous, and I find the majority of Bards deeply annoying. I'm sure you could add to the list." The ironic smile had a grim bite.

"I try very hard to let my better habits win over the bad ones, and in this case, it meant I had to reach extra far to make sure my anger wasn't clouding my judgement. And yes, I guess you can add 'overcompensating' to the list. I'm not trying to be noble, I'm just trying very hard not to be excessively unreasonable about it."

"Should have left it to me," she grumbled as she stabbed at a piece of ham with unnecessary force.

# # #

It had taken longer than Kyminn liked before he was able to show Tarva his discovery. The Captain had looked askance at the Herald's request to have someone manage Ansen and the girls for the rest of the day. Tarva had had a similar expression when Kyminn asked the Herald to put the request to the Captain, but the Herald had obliged, although her expression also suggested that Kyminn had better have a very good explanation for the imposition.

The Captain also acquiesced without demur when Kyminn bespoke mounts for himself, Cydris and Gaven. Whatever was happening, the Herald wanted it and the Captain was willing to accept that coin.

"Alright Kyminn, you've got us here. I assume you've got an explanation."

'Here' was a meadow a few miles from the village. It was well off – and out of the sight of – the road or any dwellings. The four humans and two Companions were ranged in a loose circle while the horses grazed nearby.

Kyminn unwrapped one of the tokens, taking care to turn the rings to a nonsensical pattern. He handed it to a baffled Cydris, shaking his head when she started to ask a question.

He started to turn the rings on his own amulet, but didn't have to. Already the disks were spinning, sluggishly at first, then firming up to point – again – at Gaven. Cydris, startled, dropped hers, jaw agape as she unconsciously rubbed her hands against her pants.

"What the _hell_ just happened?" Even the experienced Herald was unnerved.

A headshake. "I don't know. I was looking at them last night and the same thing happened. But I had to hold them both. I'm not sure what happened today."

Tarva looked at her Companion and the two conferred for several minutes. At one point, Aelish came over to examine the token, which Kyminn obligingly held out for her. The Companion snorted and flattened her ears, shaking her head as she backed away.

"They don't know what it is – exactly." Tarva didn't look any more happy than her Companion. "She says it's almost like the amulets themselves have a Finding Gift." The Herald's expression indicated what she thought of the idea that inanimate objects could be Gifted.

After more experimentation, the group determined that although the tokens could function when held by one person, they worked best when held by two individuals. Separated, the tokens worked at up to a hundred or so yards apart, letting the carriers refine the location of the Gifted. When Gaven mounted up and rode off, the tokens moved slowly, aligning briefly on Kyminn and then Cydris before focusing again on Gaven. Try as the group might, they were unable to get the tokens to respond to either the Herald or the Companions.

"But that doesn't make sense," Gaven was perched on a nearby boulder. Like the others, he was avoiding handling the amulets unless necessary. "Heralds are all Gifted, aren't they?"

Tarva nodded. "True. Every Herald has at least a small touch of Mindspeech. For some it's not even strong enough for them to speak to their Companion, but just enough to create the bond. Aelish and I are fortunate that we can hear each other so well."

"If it's not rude for me to ask, Herald Tarva, just how strong are your gifts?" Kyminn was watching Cellen play on a blanket in the shade. The child was happily oblivious to the consternation flowing around him.

"I have moderate Mindspeech, although I receive a bit better than I can send. I also have a decent Fetching Gift and a fairly useless bit of Farsight." That last was dry. "The flashes are so brief that I have no idea what I am looking at most of the time, nor am I ever quite certain _where_ exactly the item is. It's definitely not enough for me to see something long enough to Fetch it. Believe me, I've tried."

Kyminn's "Huh," was thoughtful as he digested this. "So, amongst the four of us, we have no one whose Gifts are exceptional in either their strength or their weakness. That means the tokens aren't responding to strength of the Gifts. And it's not a question of _specific_ Gifts either. Gaven and Cydris have the same Gift and they definitely responded more strongly to Gaven."

"Do you think maybe it's the sex of the person?" That was Cydris. "I mean, if you think of groups like the Holderkin, they don't put much value on females. Maybe whoever did this was the same way?"

That gave all of them pause and they nodded thoughtfully until Tarva pointed out that the tokens seemed to respond equally poorly to both Kyminn _and_ Cydris. They all fell back into glum silence as they contemplated the problem.

"I assume," Kyminn said eventually, "That Danyel Frie was Gifted in some way?"

Alyise, who had contributed the odd comment through Aelish, nodded once, reluctantly.

"And would you…" Kyminn didn't get to finish the question as Alyise emphatically shook her head and stamped both front feet. Clearly, the Companion wasn't going to discuss whatever it was that had drawn her attention to Danyel Frie.

Gaven was looking thoughtfully at the unhappy Companion. "Healers, Herald, I don't mean to speak out of turn but…what if it's about age?"

"Age?" That in triplicate as the adults turned to stare at him. Cydris started to say something politely dismissive, but stopped herself. She turned back to Kyminn, her eyes wide. "Not age…"

"But almost…" he breathed, nodding his understanding. He spun towards Tarva. "What was one thing that all the youngsters had in common?"

"Besides being Gifted, you mean?" The Herald furrowed her brow in thought.

Aelish gave a squeal of surprise and danced in place. Tarva's jaw dropped. "She says…they were Trainees…"

Kyminn was nodding. "Or about to be. They were Gifted and _untrained_. That means they were unshielded, prone to leakage and gods know what else."

"And Gaven is still untrained, although he's got a pretty good handle on shielding," Cydris pointed out. "And Kyminn and I have years of experience with our Gifts. And Heralds, well, you have your Companions. But Danyel didn't." Alyise looked unhappy, but didn't interfere.

"I would be willing to bet that 'Gaven Ashkevron' got to Haven just fine, without a hint of trouble." Kyminn breathed. "Why would they bother? It would be clear that there were no Gifted in that convoy for them to worry about."

"They were probably hunting me when they came across Danyel." Gaven was horrified at the thought.

"You have no way of knowing that," Tarva pointed out firmly. Aelish reinforced the Herald's words with a nudge to the young Healer's chest.

"She's right," Cydris was gentle. "There were simply two targets. We'll never know who they had their sights on first or if they always planned to kill you both. There was nothing we could have done."

They performed one final test to be sure. Gaven, Kyminn and Cydris at equal distance from the Herald. One by one, and then in unison, they dropped their shields. For the older Healers, it was a distinctly strange feeling to fully release their shields after so many years of control.

The tokens responded as predicted. Although responsive to all three, the tokens always gravitated towards the person with the least control over their Gifts.

All four of them were more than happy to bundle up the uncanny devices and set them aside while they munched on the fruit and rolls from their saddlebags. "Now what?" Kyminn offered a slice of his apple to Alyise. The Companion daintily accepted the treat and chewed it thoughtfully.

"Now I finish my investigation," Tarva shrugged. "I still want to learn what I can about the attackers. The little I've found so far suggests that they were not known in the area until fairly recently. I need to do some more digging. I'll also take custody of those...Finders…and have the Circle look into them." The Herald offered the last bit of berry pie to Aelish, smiling as the Companion accepted it with alacrity.

"As for you," Tarva indicated the cluster of Healers, "I don't think you need to remain. I've certainly got all your statements on record. As far as I'm concerned, you're free to go as soon as you feel able. I'd suggest you rest a few more days since you're both still pretty banged up, but that's totally up to you."

Kyminn's glance to Cydris was a raised-eyebrow question. Her answer was a noncommittal shrug.

"We may as well leave then. I'm sure the locals would be just as happy to see us making wheel tracks out of here. We'll be able to manage well enough and I think I'd like to get Gaven back behind the walls of the Collegium sooner rather than later. As for those…things…I don't know how many of them are out there, but I my gut tells me they aren't all that common. I mean, we never noticed the attrition until recently and it's been going on for at least a decade." Kyminn looked over at Alyise. "If you need us, we'll stay," he offered.

The headshake was emphatic. Tarva spoke for her. "She says she will manage things on her own. She thanks you for your help to this point but," the Herald coughed diplomatically, "but that she is quite capable of managing her situation from here."

"In other words, dear, butt out," Cydris translated with a grin. "You know how Companions like to keep their plans held tight in their…hooves."

Alyise snorted, but didn't disagree.

# # #

Seven sennights later, the family rolled between the gates of the Collegium once more. The remainder of the journey had been blissfully uneventful. Cellen had even outgrown his colic and was now a much more congenial travel companion.

Kyminn and Cydris had spent a good deal of time training up Gaven in his Gift to the extent that it was possible. The youngster was now so heavily layered in shields that he 'read' about as Gifted as a rock. Whether it was their precautions or simply that there were no more assassins about, they remained unmolested.

Now it was time to get to work.


	40. Chapter 40

They arrived home to chaos.

In the months since their departure, not only had Queen Selenay wed, she had done so with astonishing haste. While most seemed pleased at the strategic and trade alliances afforded by uniting the thrones of Valdemar and Rethwellan, there was more than one quiet murmur pointing out that the new king of Rethwellan, King Faramentha, seemed determined to keep his younger brother as far away from his own throne as possible.

While opinions amongst the Healers varied, as a whole they tended to take a rather dimmer view of Prince Karathanelan. It was the Healers who were supporting the Queen through the early stages of her pregnancy and concocting the soothing draughts to ease her when she and the prince had one of their increasingly frequent arguments.

"Have I mentioned lately how grateful I am that I lack the family connections that make me suitable to serve the Queen directly?" Cydris plopped ungracefully into a chair with a sigh.

"I believe you have, yes." Kyminn poured her a cup of tea and offered her a sweet biscuit. He settled into the seat beside her.

"Where is everybody?" Cydris glanced around at the oddly quiet cottage. The small building had been built a number of years ago to serve Delassia in her role as the Healer dedicated to Companions. Situated partway between the Healers Hall and the Companions stable, it had allowed the senior Healer to move easily between her research and treatment duties.

Kyminn ticked off his fingers. "Ansen is with some of the pages that are also Tedrel children. They were going to watch the Hurlee game. Mehrhet is in the library, as usual. Niyeh is playing with some of the servants' children – well supervised, I might add. Cellen is asleep."

"Will wonders never cease?" Cydris smiled. She glanced around at the tidy room. "I'm so glad Delassia was willing to give this up."

Kyminn snagged a footstool and propped his feet on it. "I think Tannel talked her into it. I have a feeling that she didn't like the idea of this cottage having the extra space for students or other guests. You know how particular she is about things. I think the bribe of a quiet, _private_ suite in the Seniors wing was more than compensation for any inconvenience in getting to the Companion stables. Besides, it's not like she's abandoned their care now that I'm back."

"True. And I'm grateful that Tannel found a way to keep us within the walls. I admit that I feel a lot more secure, knowing that we're surrounded by guards and just a stone's throw from the Companion stables." Cydris paused to sip her tea. "I know it's not a guarantee by any means. But it's certainly an improvement! Which reminds me – any word on Renya?"

"You spoiled my news," he mock-chided her. "I spoke to Tannel. He agrees that the situation seems settled enough for her to return. He won't say where he's getting the information, but it sounds as though the funds and personalities they are tracking have been quiet for several months now. The focus seems to be on Rethwellan and the succession."

"That's good." A sigh. "I was talking to Anlie again today. She's worried that the Queen is working too hard."

"Not much we can do about that love, aside from doing our little bit to keep things running smoothly." He hesitated. "I heard something today that worries me and I'm not sure whether to do anything about it or not."

At her nod, he continued. "I know I've said, time and again, that I don't want to become Healer to the beasts of the nobility. I don't want to get drawn into the politics of it."

"And I know that you agreed when Tannel asked you to help if there was any issue with the Prince's mounts," she pointed out.

"Well, yes. Tannel is the second in our Circle and when the crown asks…" he shrugged. "Cydris…if what I am seeing with the Prince's horses is any indication, then Prince Karathanelan is not a nice man."

"I see." It invited him to continue his explanation.

"It's more than just a case of 'enjoy the ride and let someone else do all the hard work'. That's an attitude of a good many nobles, sad to say. It's that I'm seeing good – excellent even – horses that have been roughly handled and returning overworked and bruised from the crop."

"That's…concerning…", she admitted. "But I gather it's not bad enough for complaint?"

"About _the Prince_? No. Unfortunately, its not to the level of abuse that would make it criminal." He shifted uncomfortably. "You know that new stallion I told you about? The gift from Lord Ashkevron?"

"I remember," a faint smile at the memory. "You said he was the spitting image of Hugo, even though he's too young to be one of Hugo's get. As I recall, you went on about his magnificence for quite a long time." She chuckled.

"Well. Yes. I suppose I did. And yet today I heard the Prince call that same horse a 'damn ugly cow-kneed, broken down nag, unfit for riding.' He went on in a good bit more detail, using language I won't repeat, but that was the gist of it."

Cydris stared in amazement. "Are we talking about the same horse here? The one you said was by far the best animal in the palace stables?"

"I am." It was grim. "He said, and I quote, 'This isn't the animal I _should_ be riding. I should have one of those white horses so that my wife won't have an excuse for not making me a Herald.' He then went on to say a lot of things about the Queen – none of them complimentary and most of them vulgar."

Cydris blanched. "Does he know you heard him?"

He shook his head emphatically. "Gods no! I kept quieter than a mouse when the hawk's about. And I followed them with a crow for a good bit to make sure they didn't say anything about suspecting they'd been overheard. But that's not even the worst of it."

Cydris looked appalled. "I'm not sure how this can get worse."

"Well, it does. One of the Prince's friends pointed out _what happened the last time_ they'd tried to 'break a Herald horse' for the Prince. How they'd been warned that the Companions were protected and they didn't want to risk running afoul of that law."

"They…tried to _break_ a Companion?" Cydris sounded as though she couldn't comprehend those five simple words. "Are they mad? How are they even still alive?"

He shrugged. "I've no idea. This obviously happened a while ago. I can only assume that the Companion in question – for whatever reason – decided to avoid permanently injuring them and settled for teaching them a lesson."

"I…have no words." Cydris shook her head, still in disbelief at the notion.

"Me neither. But my question is – should I tell anyone?" Kyminn looked at his wife, brow knitted with worry.

After a thoughtful pause, she shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. First off, on the things the Prince said about the Queen... there's no good that can come of mentioning it to anyone. The less those words get spread about, the better. And whatever he feels about her is between the two of them and is for them to work out. As for the Companion…well, it sounds as though they've given up on that particular form of suicide. And what one Companion knows, they all know. I think we have to assume that by this time any Herald who _needs_ to know what happened, already does. Does that make sense?"

"It does." He nodded in relieved agreement. "That's more or less what I thought, but I was afraid I was taking the easy road and finding a way to avoid trouble."

A snort. "Don't make me laugh. You don't know how to avoid trouble."

# # #

The next few months settled into a precarious calm. Gaven settled in well to his role as Trainee and shared with Kyminn and Cydris the happy news that Leithen's bride had given birth to a strong son. Lord Caridoc was said to be thrilled with the news. To no one's surprise, the decoy convoy reported that they had arrived in Haven – and returned to Forst reach – without incident.

Renya returned, taller and clearly thriving in her calling. She wouldn't say where, exactly, she'd been, but Kyminn got the impression that there were a lot of retired guardsmen in the vicinity. It gave him a warm sense of completeness to have all his family around him once again.

Kyminn and Cydris pursued their investigation as much as they were able, but made little progress. A quiet word to Heralds and the border posts to watch for the tokens had turned up nothing. As Tannel pointed out, they had no cause to start searching baggage or persons and doing so would only tip their hand. The only real development on that front was that someone – they weren't told who – had figured out that the speed and alignment of the three rings on the amulet indicated distance as well as direction. Most unsettling was learning that the tokens could operate over distances of at least fifty miles and were not impeded by terrain.

Cydris, unsurprisingly, was assigned teaching duties, taking over the senior students' case studies and Ethics classes. Her schedule gave her the flexibility she needed to spend part of her days with Cellen. Kyminn alternated between helping Delassia complete the long-delayed book on rehabilitating the injuries of Companions and serving as one of their primary Healers. Much of the final revision on the book was done while Cellen toddled around Kyminn's study.

The older children were enrolled in the classes afforded to all the palace youngsters – pages, children of servants and the like. Ansen and Mehrhet was, unsurprisingly, diligent students and already there was talk of Mehrhet enrolling as a Blue if she continued her interest in scholarship. Niyeh completed her studies as required, but showed no interest in going beyond that which was necessary.

"Healer! You're needed!" The hoofbeats thundering up the path had warned him enough that he didn't spill the soup when the pounding on his door started.

Ansen put down his own spoon and picked up the bowl of Cellen's cereal. "Go. We'll be fine."

Kyminn paused and thinned his shields. A very nasty strain, but nothing more serious. "I'm coming!" he hollered to the voice at the door.

"How bad?" Ansen deftly spooned some of the mixture into his sibling's maw. Cellen's eyes narrowed as he tasted the offering.

"Not bad, but I'll be a while. Can you…" Kyminn began.

"Finish here and take Cellen to Vina's? Yes. And the girls will let mother know. And I'll be with Tysen and the girls will be at Vina's, just like we're supposed to be." Ansen swapped oatmeal for applesauce, much to his brother's pleasure. Raff darted in and licked up the gobbet of oatmeal that Cellen had rejected. The dogs thought that mealtimes with Cellen were a wonderful invention.

Kyminn shook his head as he flung on his cloak. "Thank you. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Healer," the Trainee was in his final year, or close to it, if Kyminn had to guess. "Can you come please? Lekaron's hurt."

Kyminn could see the limping Companion, supported by two of his fellows, making his way to the Companion's stable. Behind them was a two-horse stretcher bearing a grey clad figure off to the infirmary. "How badly is everyone hurt?"

The Trainee's Companion matched her pace to Kyminn's hurried limp. "Harrow has a concussion and we think Lekaron took a sprain."

"From what I can tell from here, that seems to be the case. Let's get your fellow attended to, shall we?"

There was always something satisfying about Healing Companions. It felt like he'd made his own small contribution to the vital work of the Heralds. It helped, too, that he was almost healing two patients when he eased the pain of a Companion.

"There. That should feel better." Kyminn could tell by the way Lekaron's muscles had unknotted that the Companion was, indeed more comfortable.

"I would suggest you keep your weight off it for tomorrow and perhaps part of the next day. I'll come back later this evening for another round. In the meantime, I'd like you to consider this." 'This' was a blanket, cut to cover only the hindquarters. A faint smell of toasted grains emanated from the fabric. The Companion quirked an ear in question.

"There are pockets sewn into the blanket that are filled with dried river grains. When we warm the blanket up, the grains hold the heat. This should give you close to a candlemark of heat on that twisted muscle."

Lekaron's ears pricked up and he nodded agreement. From his sigh as the blanket settled over and was strapped around his sore limb, it seemed he was thoroughly enjoying the warmth.

"Healer, we can stay and rewarm the blanket if you need us to." Kyminn hadn't heard the Trainees come up behind him.

He turned. These were all older Trainees, grave and mature. He recognized among them the fellow who'd come and fetched him. "I gather that you have the time?"

They all nodded and one spoke for the group. "We have. We rearranged our chores in case Lekaron needed us. Harrow is resting but he'll be a couple more days in bed."

Kyminn showed them where two similar blankets were warming and how to tell if they were getting too hot. "I'll be back later to check. In the meantime, only two more rounds of heat. Too much can actually slow the healing. You know where to find me if I'm needed?" They all nodded again. "Lekaron? Do you need anything else?" At the Companion's headshake, Kyminn took himself back home.

# # #

It was dark and quiet when Kyminn returned to check on his patient. He smiled slightly to see that the warming blankets had been neatly put away and someone had left a carefully penned note tacked outside Lekaron's stall. It gave the times that the heating blanket had been changed and noted that Lekaron reported being comfortable throughout.

Lekaron was awake and waiting for him. "Good evening. You probably already know all this, but I wanted to tell you that I checked with Harrow's Healers. He has a nasty headache and will need to rest for several days, but he'll be fine." Kyminn opened himself to his Gift. "Now, about you…"

Time spent in Healing always seemed to stand still, even though his fatigue and the time candle told differently. One final check that everything Lekaron required was full and within easy reach and Kyminn turned to go.

"Recover fully, he will?" The dark on dark grey of the Weaponsmaster's uniform was a moving shadow in the dark stable.

"Herald Alberich! You startled me!"

"Sorry, I am. Not to disturb your work I wanted." Alberich paused. "Know you, I do?"

"Yes, we met a while ago. You were training my daughter Renya, a Healer Trainee. And you started me on some staff work."

"Kept it up, have you?" It was a bass growl.

"I haven't. I…haven't made time for it." Kyminn thought of trying to explain the past year and a half, but settled on the simplest truth.

Alberich's expression was unreadable.

Kyminn broke his gaze away, returning to the resting Lekaron. "Lekaron will fully recover. He should be able to return to light training in a few days. I'm not sure, but I suspect Trainee Harrow will be out a bit longer."

Alberich's silence was a weight in the darkness.

"Someone once said to me that the rule for training is 'the more you sweat, the less you bleed'." Kyminn ran a hand down the Companion's silky neck. "I've come to know how true that is, especially where Heralds are concerned." He paused and now his tone was hesitant. "Herald Alberich, at one time, you were Selenay's personal guard, correct?"

Alberich nodded, ever so slightly. One eyebrow twitched in a hint of faint curiosity.

"Then you know that not all dangers come from the darkness. Sometimes our enemies are right in front of us." It was halting, this oblique warning.

"Know you something?" Without moving a muscle, Alberich's intensity seemed to magnify.

A headshake. "Nothing…actionable. Just…things that a Healer sees and hears over time. Maybe there's some Foresight in my feelings or maybe it's just me jumping at shadows. Just...we can't all fight, but the Queen has many defenders." The silence stretched in the darkness as Kyminn hoped the Herald understood – and accepted – the warning.

"Well done, that was." That gravelly rumble again as Alberich resettled his cloak. At the door, the Herald paused and looked back. "I speak of Lekaron, of course."

"Of course," was the quiet murmur of response.

# # #

Birthing Day celebrations, Midwinter, the safe arrival of the Princess Elspeth, the much-anticipated addition of a new volume to the Healer's library – high notes in a season of minor chords. It was by now an open secret that the Queen and Prince's marriage was one of cold treaty rather than warm regard, a discordant clang in what should have been a joyous time. For Kyminn, the lack of any sign of Group X since the previous summer added another layer of frustration and uncertainty.

"Honestly, Cydris, I'm not sure what to do next." Kyminn stared glumly at the pile of documents. "Everything has gone quiet. Every potential Trainee is accounted for and there hasn't been a whisper of trouble from anywhere. It's like chasing mist at this point. The only _good_ piece of news was when Alyise showed up just after Midwinter with her Chosen."

"Maybe we scared them off. Or maybe those men we killed were the only agents," Cydris offered.

"This group is far too established, and far reaching, to have been shut down by one action. No, we cut off a limb, but the root of this all is still out there." His headshake was firm. "I…" he paused, frozen. "A Companion. Under attack. Soon…" he tried to sort out the images and shook his head in frustration. "I can't…that's all there was." He pulled himself to his feet, suddenly anxious. "We need to let someone know."

"When and where?" Her voice was calm, focussing.

"I don't know…soon…I don't know where." He raked his hands through his hair in frustration, pacing. He spun towards the door, halting as the alarms rang out.

"There. They know. You," and it was firm. "Go to the Companion stables. That's where they'll go first. I will be here – where people can find me if I'm needed. I'll send the children to Vina."

# # #

It was candlemarks later before he returned home. The only injuries to any Companion were the sorts of bangs and strains that could be easily managed by their Heralds. Instead, he found himself at the palace stables, helping tend to a familiar set of animals.

"What on earth happened?" He was stitching up a long gash in the shoulder of the Prince's Ashkevron stallion as he muttered the question.

"Hunting accident." The Herald was terse.

Kyminn looked from what long experience told him was a sword slash – and the liberal splatters of blood on the horse – back to the Herald.

"Hunting accident. Regrettably, the Prince was killed." The Herald's tone brooked no argument.

A pause, then a grave nod. "Indeed. We shall all mourn appropriately."

# # #

It was nearly dark by the time he and Cydris arrived at Vina's to fetch the children. Kyminn had given his wife the Herald's explanation of 'hunting accident', along with an explanation of the work he'd done that day. He let her draw her own conclusions, confident she'd understand.

"Thank you again Vina," Kyminn hefted the wriggling Cellen and got him settled. "This wouldn't be possible without you being available at a moment's notice like this."

"Nah then. I enjoy it. Housekeeping at the Hall is too much for me these days and this lets me add a bit to my pension. I don't sleep much at my age and I like having the littles about. There's still a couple of parents to come pick up their younglings yet."

"Well, the children adore you and we're lucky to have you. Good night then." Cydris shooed the children down the path. The girls skipped ahead, but Ansen hung back to walk with his parents.

"Is everything alright?" He matched his pace to theirs. Good gods but the lad was sprouting up!

"More or less," Kyminn answered. "There was a very bad hunting accident and unfortunately, several people died, including Prince Karathanelan."

"Oh." Ansen thought about that. "Will Rethwellan be angry with us?"

Cydris blinked in surprise. "What makes you ask that?"

He shrugged. "Since the Queen got married and had a baby, Father Odan has been explaining to us how there were treaties and such. And how Princess Elspeth will rule some day, but not before she's Chosen."

"Ah. I see. Well, I would think not," Kyminn shifted his hold on Cellen. "Rethwellan and Valdemar have been allies for a very long time and well, it was an accident. Fortunately, that's not something we have to worry about. That's the job for the diplomats and Heralds."

The three of them paused to step aside as a white form loomed up before them on the path. Moving aside was not only respectful, but Companions tended to require a rather lot of room on the walkway.

"Can we help you?" Cydris said politely as the Companion stopped before them.

The Companion gave the faintest of headshakes, his attention elsewhere.

Ansen was still, swept up in a rush of sapphire blue.

"Kandrel," breathed the newest Herald-Trainee.


	41. Chapter 41

Kyminn's eyes welled up and threatened to spill over. His heart seemed to burst – or was it shatter? – as understanding dawned.

Love. Fear. Pride. Loss. These and more tumbled around and he could settle on none of them.

"Kyminn." Cydris's indrawn gasp was anguished.

"I know, love." There was more he wanted to say – to her, to their son, to Kandrel – but he was unable to form the words.

The girls, aware that the others had stopped, had turned back, puzzled by the delay.

"Mama?" Niyeh looked up at Cydris, unsettled by what she saw in Cydris's face.

"This…this is the Companion Kandrel. He has Chosen your brother."

Niyeh's eyes grew wide. In the many, many months that the family had spent together on the road, they had spoken in depth of Companions, Heralds and the like. Unlike many, the girls had a very good idea of what being Chosen meant.

"You're leaving us?" Niyeh's question was half statement, half wail.

Ansen dropped to his knees and swept up his sisters in a fierce hug. "Never. I will never leave you. You know that." He looked past them to Kandrel. "But I do need to move to the Collegium. To learn how to be a Herald. I will come and visit whenever I can." He gestured to where Kandrel was nodding. "See? Kandrel says I'll be able to see you."

Kyminn wanted to the next moments to last for hours. The hugs, the tears. Ansen bouncing Cellen up and down and making the toddler giggle. At Kandrel's nudge, Ansen handed Cellen back. The deep glow of happiness on his son's face when the boy twined his fingers in Kandrel's mane made Kyminn's chest tighten.

"Can I walk with you to the Collegium? To see him off?" The understanding in Kandrel's eyes hurt most of all as the Companion nodded.

For all that his hand was on Ansen's shoulder as they walked, it felt unreal, knowing his son was already part of something else. In their days on the road, he and Ansen had often talked for hours, the boy's perceptive questions and observations covering a wide range of subjects. He'd only had his son for two years, yet it felt like a decade.

As Ansen pushed open the doors of the Collegium, Kyminn hesitated briefly, unsure of what to do next. He had a vague intention of making their way towards Dean Elcarth's office until they encountered someone. Ansen tugged his hand. "This way."

A turn of the corridor and Kyminn saw the Herald, paused in the hallway as she scrutinized the tome in her hands. He couldn't help but smile. Herald-Chronicler Myste, although seldom seen outside her archives and the Collegium, was distinctive. He cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Herald-Chronicler?"

She looked up, startled, her thick lenses giving her an owlish expression.

Kyminn glanced down at Ansen, giving the boy a half-hug. "This is my son, Ansen Danner, new Chosen of Kandrel." The words felt thick and awkward in his mouth.

The diminutive Herald smiled. "Kandrel, hmm? Anadelle's son by Kantor. And you were one of the Tedrel children. That makes you," and she peered up at Kyminn. "Healer Kyminn Danner. The one who specializes in Companions."

He nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"You are the second of the Tedrel children to be Chosen this week. I don't suppose you know a lad named Theodren?" At Ansen's headshake, she shrugged. "Ah, well. You'll be in the same Year, so at least you'll be with someone from the same background."

She blinked, and looked back at Kyminn. Her tone was brisk, but gentle. "I can see to him from here."

Kyminn nodded. Before he could speak, Ansen spoke up. "Herald, what about Kandrel? I should see to him."

Myste smiled broadly, illuminating her clerkish face. "You're quite right, and normally you would. But first, we need to get you settled. Don't worry, Kandrel knows. There's a process for this. He won't mind, just this once."

Ansen nodded and looked up at Kyminn. "Da…"

Kyminn hugged his son tight. "I know. I'm so, so proud and happy for you. I love you and we'll miss you terribly. But we understand. Really."

Reluctantly, slowly, they untangled from their hug. Myste put a guiding hand on Ansen's shoulder. "Shall we?"

And Kyminn let go of his son.

# # #

Kyminn wasn't home the next day when two senior Trainees arrived at the cottage. They courteously presented a list of items that Ansen had asked to have transferred to his quarters in the Collegium. Such requests were not uncommon, but were closely monitored. A Herald Trainee was as likely to arise from the gutters as descend from the nobility and it was important that all Trainees start out on an equal footing. This equality extended to housing and the personal goods a Trainee was allowed to keep.

Ansen's list was simple, consisting of two favorite books, the journal he'd kept of their trip to Oakden and an especially comfortable pair of slippers. A sketch drawn by Mehrhet and a necklace strung of oddments made by Niyeh completed the bundle. Cydris helped gather the items for the pair and saw them on their way. Only later, that evening, did she sob onto Kyminn's shoulder.

Ansen's departure left a strange hole in their family. Kyminn hadn't realized – or, he admitted painfully, acknowledged, - just how much the family had relied on Ansen's quiet responsibility in keeping the household running smoothly. Much as Kyminn and Cydris had tried to avoid asking their eldest to watch Cellen, or keep an eye on the girls for a moment, or even stock the woodpile – it quickly became clear that these were things that Ansen had taken on anyway, things they hadn't noticed at the time.

Niyeh especially missed Ansen and resorted to tantrums and acting out. A favorite ploy was to disappear, forcing the family to search for her. After the second such incident, Kyminn set Tip and Jet to shadowing the child. Niyeh responded by climbing any wall, roof or similar structure as a means of avoiding them. The dogs would follow along on the ground, baying their distress to all within earshot. Cydris wanted to hide every time the clamour started up, since she was the only one capable of climbing up to retrieve her errant offspring.

Mehrhet tried to reason with her sibling, but her pleas fell on deaf ears, usually ending in a round of loud bickering, tears and slammed doors. Mehrhet retreated into a deep funk, snappish and surly when spoken to.

"Kyminn, I swear I'm at my wits end. I've no idea what to do with them!" Cydris was exhausted, having just endured another of Niyeh's tantrums. This one was because her nightshirt was 'too soft'.

"Me neither," he admitted. "I mean, if something terrible had happened and he were gone forever, we would grieve and be angry and it would be understandable. But that's not what happened. He's very much alive and we should, by rights, be thrilled for him. But dammit, I miss him like the devil and so do the girls. So, then I feel guilty for not being happy for him and I end up in knots."

"I feel exactly the same way," she confessed. "Everyone I meet congratulates me, but I want to shake them and remind them that my son will probably never marry, never have a family and is likely to die a gruesome death. How is that supposed to make me happy? And then I see the Trainees, see how much they care for each other and my heart wants to burst with pride at knowing what a fine person he is. His life will be terrible and extraordinary at the same time. I…don't know how to cope."

"Do you suppose all the parents of the newly Chosen feel the same way?" he mused.

"Maybe. I mean, some of them really have no idea what it means. They probably just see the prestige and the so-called glory of being a Herald. They don't see the reality. Those parents probably miss their children but are happy, maybe even planning on how to take advantage of the fact.

"Others, well, I'm sure there's a few that couldn't care less whether their child was a Herald or a horse thief, so long as they aren't another mouth to feed. The rest probably fall somewhere in between those two extremes."

He sighed. "It doesn't exactly help that he's right next door. I keep thinking I'm going to catch a glimpse of him…"

"And you find yourself looking, but you know you shouldn't," she finished for him.

Kyminn was quiet for a time. Then, hesitantly, "Tannel spoke to me today."

"Oh." He could feel her wince. She'd had to retrieve Niyeh from the peak of the chapel that morning. It had been a very…public…event.

"He asked me if we'd be interested in a short-term posting to the Army base just outside the city. The Healer there is going on a three month leave to spend time with an ailing family member. You'd take the post and I'd help with training."

"Um." She thought about it for a few moments. "I have to admit, it's very tempting. The girls might benefit from the change of scenery."

"Or, they might lose their minds at another change," he pointed out.

"True. What do you think?"

She felt the shoulder under her head lift in a shrug. "You know me, I'm generally up for something new."

"But?"

"But," and he sighed. "But it feels an awfully lot like running away."

"Yeah. That's what I thought too. But would it really be running away or simply creative problem solving?"

"Sometimes that question is only answered in hindsight." It was dry.

She poked him and he flinched, chuckling.

"So? What are we going to do?"

# # #

They stayed. Kyminn spoke to Tannel and requested a month's leave. From the alacrity of Tannel's consent, the Healer's Circle was extremely interested in seeing an end to the latest round of Danner family drama.

For the next moon, Kyminn gave the girls his undivided attention. Tantrums were shut down at first wail and Niyeh spent a considerable amount of time with her bottom parked on a stool in the corner. Kyminn was tempted to offer a few swats on that same behind, but consultation with the Mind Healers suggested that would not be wise. Physical punishment and the Tedrel children, it seemed, were not a healthy mental mix.

The saving grace was that the girls, like the rest of the cohort of orphans, were fundamentally well-behaved and deeply devoted to their adoptive families. Once they had had an opportunity to express their fear and distress at the change, they actively sought a new balance in the family dynamic. In the end, there was still an Ansen-shaped hole in their family, but they had each found a way to accept it.

# # #

"There you go. I imagine that's the last time _that_ snapping turtle tries to take a chunk out of a Companion, but it's definitely going to leave a mark." Kyminn dried his hands and grinned at the chagrinned Herald. "I'd have thought snapping turtles had more sense."

"Healer, there's not enough left of the turtle to make soup. Both of us saw to that." The Herald snorted. "Of all the hazards you expect to encounter on the trail – arrows, brigands, bad weather – I don't recall turtles being on the list."

The turtle hadn't done significant damage, although another few inches and the stallion would have had considerably more reason to be outraged. Still, the wound would be tender for a few days yet.

"Well, as I said, a few days rest should help. I'll come by tomorrow evening to see if you need anything. Nothing faster than a walk for the next day, alright?" At the pairs' nods, he bid them good evening and left the barn. The late summer evening was still warm and fall hadn't started to paint the trees yet.

"Da?" Ansen was perched on the low stone wall beside the Companion's stables, Kandrel lounging behind him.

"Ansen!" The hug was fierce and glad. The four months since Ansen's Choosing had already added at least an inch to the lad's height.

"And good evening to you too, Kandrel," Kyminn added when they parted. He joined his son on the wall. "What brings you by here? Somehow I doubt it's by accident."

"Well, no," Ansen admitted, unconsciously stroking Kandrel's shoulder. "I was hoping we could talk."

Kyminn raised his eyebrows. "I'm always happy to spend time with you, you know that."

The smile was genuine. "I know." Ansen grew serious again. "I'm just…trying to sort things out. With being a Herald and all."

Kyminn glanced at the Companion. "What does Kandrel say?"

To Kyminn's surprise, Ansen laughed. His son rarely laughed, although he had a deep streak of joy. "He said that he told me so. That you'd say that."

Kyminn found himself grinning back at the Companion. "Happy to be so predictable." He cocked his head. "You can hear him?"

Ansen wriggled his hand in a 'so-so' gesture. "Sometimes. It's getting stronger. I'm told that as our bond grows, it looks we'll probably be able to mindspeak fairly well. Right now, I have to be touching Kandrel and it's tiring to hold long conversations. But we understand each other." This last was accompanied by a look of such naked love that Kyminn felt like an intruder.

"So." Kyminn pushed past the moment. "Kandrel aside, does the anyone else know you're here? I mean, this seems like something you'd want to talk to another Trainee, or a Herald about."

"Dean Elcarth knows. It was his idea, actually. He says you probably have a pretty good 'in-between' point of view on being a Herald and can maybe bridge the gap."

"Huh. Well. I'll do what I can. What seems to be the problem?"

"I guess it's just that…I'm trying to figure out where I belong. Who I'm supposed to be? Tedrel? Valdemaran? Who, exactly, is Ansen Danner?"

Kyminn gave a lot of thought to his response. Ansen didn't seem to mind the wait.

"You," Kyminn said slowly, "are a lot of people. You used to be a boy who would be a Tedrel some day. To that end, you grew up quickly and learned to fend for yourself. You were part of the Sun God's prophecy, that you would have a different future. That's a lot of weight to bear – being part of a god's prophecy. You know that your mother and I don't hold to any particular faith, but I freely admit that there was some…power…that protected the lot of you and made it possible for you to join us. That's something we've talked a lot about, you and I. How the prophecy kept a mob of a thousand children from turning on each other and consuming themselves and, instead, taught you about love and family. That's something extraordinary to be a part of.

"You are also mine and your mother's adopted son. We love you and your sisters as much as if you had been born to us. I know it's not the same thing as what you and Kandrel have – not even close – but we _chose_ you, or you chose us. I was never quite sure which that was.

"As for that part…well, it was our vision that we would guide you and teach you. We'd help you learn the skills and values needed to succeed. In time, you'd take on your own trade and start your own life." Kyminn paused to smile. "I rather thought you'd end up a fine horse-leech some day. Your mother and I had discussed arranging an apprenticeship with Lord Caridoc, if that's where your path seemed to be leading you."

"You did? I never knew that!" Ansen let his surprise show.

"Well," a shrug, "You are only twelve. There was still time. We were going to talk to you about it next spring and see if you were interested. We didn't want to force you into anything."

"Huh." Ansen looked thoughtful. "You know, I think I would probably have wanted that."

A smile. "I'm glad. As to who else you are…Mehrhet and Niyeh's brother. Cellan's brother. Kandrel's Chosen. You are a lot of people."

A gusty sigh. "I know. But sometimes I wonder if I'm really Valdemaran. I'm not _from_ here."

Kyminn glanced at Kandrel, but the Companion was inscrutable.

"Have people been giving you a hard time?" Kyminn was well aware that Ansen's dark hair and deep tan complexion marked him as something other than most regular Valdemarans.

"What? No. Well, maybe the palace courtiers are, or the Blues, but I certainly haven't heard anything about it." Ansen's quick response soothed Kyminn's raised hackles.

"Hmm. Well, you know I've told you the story of Baron Valdemar and the Founding, right?" When Ansen nodded, Kyminn continued. "I think that it just goes to show that we – all of us – are from _somewhere_ else. Whether us now, or our ancestors – we all came to Valdemar at some point in our history. Yours just happens to be more recent that most. Look at the Weaponsmaster. Do you think anyone is going to tell Alberich that he doesn't belong here in Valdemar?"

"Gods no!" Ansen gave a theatrical shudder. "Not if they want to walk away from the conversation!"

"So? There you go. You _chose_ Valdemar when you joined the Children's Trek. Your mother and I _chose_ you and your sisters. And Kandrel Chose you. I think that, regardless of where you were born, you're Valdemaran now!"

Ansen's smile was still troubled. "Then why do I still feel so out of sorts? Like I'm not sure where I belong?"

"Son," it was gentle, "I honestly don't think it has a thing to do with where you were born or how you got here to the Collegium. I think it has everything to do with being twelve years old and having your life turned upside down twice in two years. Think about it – the war, then the trek, then finding us. You had to learn a new language, a new people, a whole new country. We didn't even let you stay in one place and get used to things. We dragged you all over creation, introducing you to new places, new communities, new ways of doing things.

"Then, just when you get settled down and we have a home, along comes Kandrel and upsets the applecart again. No wonder you're feeling out of place!"

Kandrel whiffled Ansen's hair in apology.

"He says you're right." Kandrel gave a wry smile.

"Once in a while." Kyminn smiled faintly at his own joke. "I remember being your age. That's when my Gifts appeared – rather dramatically, I might add. Learning I had Gifts and, oh, guess what, you're a Healer certainly set my world tumbling, that much I can tell you! I think I have some idea of what you're going through son. Will you trust me that what you're feeling is perfectly natural and understandable? And you know you can trust Kandrel. He _knows_ you belong."

"So, I'm just being silly then?" Ansen looked up at Kyminn.

"No, not silly. Just human. Heralds are human, you know. Even young ones." Kyminn saw Ansen match his smile.

"Now then. Do you have time to tell me how things are going? Or time to visit your mother and sibs?"

Ansen got that familiar 'listening' look. It was decidedly odd to see that on his son's face!

"Kandrel says that it shouldn't be a problem if I talk to the Dean about stopping by one evening later this week. Would that be alright?"

"Your mother will be delighted, as will the others." Kyminn cocked his head. "I must say, you seem to be Hearing Kandrel rather well."

Ansen gave his customary quiet smile. "It's like shouting from a distance. I catch most of it, and what I can't hear, I can feel the sense of the rest. It's hard to explain."

"I can imagine." Kyminn hesitated as a thought occurred to him. "Have you any idea what other Gifts you might have, if any?"

Kyminn had had a sudden memory of the two amulets. In all their testing, the tokens had pointed vaguely to himself and Cydris, always and strongly to Gaven. But not once had they pointed to Ansen.

 _::His Gifts had not yet awoken. Alyise saw the potential, but no more.::_

The mind voice was unfamiliar, but there was no doubt as to the source. Kyminn gave a faint nod of acknowledgement.

"No, not yet. I'm told it may take some time. I don't care, really. I've got enough to be with Kandrel and that's all I need." Ansen seemed oblivious to the exchange.

Kyminn wondered if his smile seemed as forced on the outside if it felt on the inside. Inside, he was shrieking. Only months, it seemed, had prevented his son from being a target of the unknown assassins.


	42. Chapter 42

The lack of progress on the search for Group X was like an insect beneath one's skin, a constant source of discussion and frustration for both of them. Kyminn spent hours digging through records, including some of the less-sensitive reports from the Heralds on circuit. He learned a lot about who was shorting on their taxes, or feuding with a neighbour, but nothing of any use.

At Kyminn's persistent request, Tannel asked Talamir if the Kingdom's intelligence agents would be willing to survey the shopkeepers who traded in trinkets and baubles to see if any of them were familiar with the amulets or their source. Talamir acceded to the request, but with the warning not to expect a timely response. Kyminn's subsequent request to include the various temples in the query was denied. Not only was the request impractical, given the plethora of beliefs represented in the kingdom, but such a query brushed up against the absolute dictum of "there is no one true way."

"What happens if it turns out that these seeker-tokens _do_ belong to one of the temples? What then?" Tannel's question was serious.

Kyminn looked askance at the question. "Freedom of faith doesn't mean freedom to murder children." The response had an angry bite to it.

"I never said it did." Tannel's answer was sharp. "And if one of the temples is behind this, we'll find them. And if it turns out that someone is trying to make a particular faith look responsible, we'll find that too. But not this way."

"But…" it was heated.

"But nothing. Nearly every temple or belief in Valdemar has an icon, or symbol, or something that represents the sacred to its believers. If word got out that we were looking into who wears which symbol, or trying to restrict what can be worn, there would be a religious riot – and rightfully so.'

"That's not what we're doing and you know it!"

"I do know it. But the rest of Valdemar won't see it that way. 'Is this a symbol of your faith?' 'Where do you get them and who wears it?'" Tannel was clearly annoyed at Kyminn's instrangience on the matter. "No. Find another way."

"But…"

"No. Take that as an order from the Circle, Healer." There was no warmth in Tannel's voice.

Kyminn's expression spoke his protest, but he said nothing. After a moment, he gave Tannel the barest of nods. When Tannel said nothing further, Kyminn rose, and after an exquisitely proper bow, removed himself.

###

It had already been a busy morning.

Several Healers had been called to the Tanner's Quarter, where a dispute over some (allegedly) stolen calf-hides had erupted into a running battle that spread over several blocks. Most of the injuries were from sticks and stones, but the sheer number were keeping the Healers busy.

Closer to home, a house maid had tripped over an errant kitten and spilled a pail of water across the floor. While the only harm the maid had suffered was to her dignity, two cooks had slipped on the wet stones and splashed the hot oil they had been carefully moving off the hearth. Not only had the two cooks been burned, the oil had floated atop the water throughout the room. Several other kitchen staff had been burned on their feet and ankles as the hot liquid splashed them.

Kyminn had just finished preparing a bed for one of the burned cooks when the bang of the outer doors drew him back into the waiting room.

Two Herald Trainees were carefully supporting a third. The injured Trainee was moving more or less under his own power, but most of the fellow's attention was on pressing a rather blood-soaked towel to his enthusiastically bleeding scalp.

At a gesture from Kyminn, the Trainees helped their colleague onto one of the beds. Kyminn was rather impressed with how the two made sure to keep the injured man straight and stable throughout the transfer.

Leaving the towel in place for the moment, Kyminn examined his patient. "Who can tell me what happened?"

"Herald-Trainee Jillyan speaking, Healer." The young woman spoke with quiet confidence. "We were in the training yard, doing drills. Bredin here," she gestured to her injured year-mate, "is the Weaponsmaster's assistant in unarmed combat. While Bredin was supervising some of the senior students, a group of first-years were workng on the pells."

Jillyan shook her head. "As you know, it's chilly out these days. As near as we can tell, the glue binding the leather wrap to the handle on the training sword gave way. Not sure if it was the cold or the dew that did it, but the whole thing just slipped off, leaving poor Ansen with a handful of leather while the sword took off and nailed Bredin in the head. Bredin dropped like a felled ox." She looked at her friend. "Sorry Bredin, but honestly, you did."

Kyminn couldn't help cringing at hearing Ansen's part in the accident, but fortunately, none of the three noticed.

Trainee Bredin gave a wry smile. "Don't apologize, I'm sure that's exactly what it looked like. I know that it's exactly what it _felt_ like, at any rate."

Kyminn grunted in agreement. "Of that I have no doubt." He moved about the room, closing the shutters and door, dimming things considerably. Holding a small bulls-eye lantern, Kyminn flicked the bright beam into Bredin's eyes, one at a time. Pleased that both pupils were equally sized and reacted appropriately, Kyminn re-opened the shutters. Sitting down before his patient, experienced fingers probed the Trainee's skull as Kyminn began to ask questions.

"Can you tell me your full name?"

"Herald-Trainee Bredin Kase." The answer was clear and without slur.

"And what Year are you?"

"Third year, Healer." Again, there was no hesitation in the answer. Clearly, Bredin had his wits well in hand.

"And the name of your Companion?"

"Lacaral." There was an undertone of quiet warmth and love in Bredin's response this time.

Kyminn pulled back and couldn't hide his pleased surprise. "Lacaral! I knew that he had Chosen, but I didn't know I'd ever get the opportunity to meet you." At the trio's puzzled expressions, Kyminn hastened to explain.

"During the last year of the Tedrel war, I was one of the Healers who accompanied King Sendar's party from Haven. Unpartnered Companions were kind enough to carry us non-Heralds so the party could move at a Companion's pace – safer that way. Lacaral did me the great honor of agreeing to carry me to the front and his brother Losanir carried my wife. We travelled together for a little more than a fortnight all told. I hope I adequately expressed my thanks to him for the imposition."

Bredin nodded. "He says he remembers you very well, Healer Kyminn. He says to tell you that you and Healer Cydris were very gracious guests."

Kyminn coloured faintly at the compliment before moving on briskly, "Now then, let's see what's under that rag, shall we?"

Carefully, and with clean cloth at hand to press over any sudden bleeding, Kyminn eased the bloody (and, he noted, rather grimy) cloth from Bredin's head. A long gash oozed sullenly along the Trainee's scalp.

"Tell me, Trainee Bredin. Would you happen to know if your father has all his hair?"

Bredin looked confused by the question, but answered readily. "My father is greying, but still has a fairly full head of hair. Why?"

"Well," Kyminn pressed the clean cloth over the wound and put Bredin's hand on it to hold it in place. "You have a four-inch gash along your scalp, running from your left temple along the side of your head. If you were prone to baldness, you'd find yourself flashing a rather impressive scar in a decade or so. As it is, it will largely be hidden under your hair."

"Poor Bredin. No scar to flash to get sympathy from the girls." The heretofore silent male Trainee grinned.

"That's because you take them all Jan," Bredin retorted.

Kyminn held up a hand. "Well…don't speak too soon. I am going to have to stitch that gash and you have two options. First is that I can shave a patch around it – which will leave you with a rather large bald patch that will take time to grow out. It will look odd, but you'll still have most of your hair."

"Let me guess," Bredin sighed. "The other choice is to take it all off?"

"Afraid so." Kyminn quirked any eyebrow in question.

"You may as well cut it all off. It'll be easier to keep the wound clean and will come in evenly that way. I won't look like I argued with the barber." The last was rueful.

Kyminn flashed the young Trainee a smile of commiseration. While Heralds and Herald-Trainees were as prone to vanity as anyone else, they also developed a fairly mature streak of practicality within the first couple of years after being Chosen.

"The good news," Kyminn spoke to distract Bredin from the snick of the scissors, "is that you have neither a concussion nor a skull fracture. What you do have is a very impressive lump and, as I noted, the gash. You are going to have a headache for a couple of days but you'll be back to classes fairly soon."

Jan cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Healer Kyminn, but since it seems as though Bredin's head seems to be just as hard as we always thought it was and he's going to be alright, do you need Jill and I?" He gestured to the other Trainee. "We should report back to Herald Alberich."

"Go ahead, I don't want to keep you. Please let Alberich know that I will make sure he gets my notes on Bredin's restrictions. I will also," and Kyminn nodded at both the Trainees, "make sure to let him know how well you handled your colleague's injury. You did well to keep him stable and mind his balance and neck when you brought him in."

Both the Trainees were politely pleased at the compliment, nodding their thanks as they returned to their duties.

In short order, most of Bredin's hair littered the floor around them, the rough work giving his head a decidedly scruffy look. Had he not been wearing Trainee Greys, the blood and his unkempt appearance would have had housewives calling for the Watch.

"Before I take the rest off, I want to get your wound ready for stitching. We have a salve that will numb the area and I want to give it time to work before I start poking holes in your scalp."

"I think I've heard about this gunk," Bredin offered warily.

"What you probably heard is that the stuff stings like blazes when it first goes on," Kyminn replied. "I'm afraid that's true. Fortunately, the effect is short lived and once the first part starts to numb I can spread it from those spots outwards and it hurts less as I go on."

"Less?"

"Less, but not completely. Again, it's short lived. If you want to do it without numbing – and some do – that's fine."

The Trainee didn't hesitate. "I'll take the numbing please. That way you can do whatever you need and take your time without worrying that you're hurting me."

Kyminn was as gentle as he could be, but Bredin was still unable to completely supress a flinch at the burning sensation when the salve was first applied.

"Trainee Bredin," Kyminn said mildly as the room suddenly dimmed, "would you mind asking Lacaral to please stand on the other side of the window? His head is blocking my light."

There was a whicker from the open window as Lacaral obligingly shifted.

"He said 'Sure', but he wants to know why you didn't ask him yourself?"

"Because," Kyminn dabbed on a final bit of salve and stepped back, "it distracted you from what I was doing."

Bredin gave a snorted laugh. "I don't think you want to know what he just said about sneaky Healers."

"Oh, I can guess." It was dry.

Both Trainee and Companion snickered in unison.

It didn't take long for Kyminn's razor to remove the rest of Bredin's hair. "If this were summer, I'd remind you to wear a head cover of some kind – this isn't a part of the body that gets a lot of sun. As it is, I think you'll be alright. Just be mindful of the possibility, though, alright?"

Bredin started to nod, but stopped himself. "I will."

Kyminn helped get Bredin positioned on the bed. He carefully cleaned the wound, pleased that the edges were nicely straight. That done, he reapplied the salve, just to make sure there would be no discomfort.

As Kyminn began to stitch the gash, Bredin commented "Lacaral says you do neat work."

"Thank you Lacaral. I would certainly hope so at this point in my career." It was only a little bit sarcastic.

Lacaral gave an amused snort in response.

"Healer?" Bredin's voice was tentative. "I don't mean to intrude, but…my Gift is Farseeing and, well, you seem to be thinking about something awfully hard. The thing you're looking for? It's in a sack of rice, in the warehouse district."

Kyminn swore as he jabbed himself with the suture needle. Startled, Bredin tried to sit up and Kyminn held him down. "Hold still!"

It took them a few moments to get sorted out again. Kyminn made sure he hadn't bled into the open wound and tied off the stitch he'd been working on.

"Healer Kyminn? Is everything alright?" the Trainee didn't try to sit up this time.

"Yes. It's just that you startled me." Kyminn took a deep breath and threaded a new needle. "And now I very badly want to talk to you – as soon as we're done putting you back together."

Fortunately for all of them, the remainder of the stitches went in without any more shocks. Kyminn put a covering bandage over the wound and made sure Bredin understood how to care for the stitches and what to watch out for.

"Three days of light duty – no arms training, no hard riding. And come back if you are dizzy, spots before your eyes or anything similar. And you," this to Lacaral, "Don't let him be the tough Herald. I know you'll take care of him – try to make sure he takes care of himself, okay?"

Lacaral's nod was emphatic.

"Okay." Kyminn watched as Bredin settled himself more comfortably on the bed. "I would very much like to ask you about what it was you Saw. Do you feel up to it?"

Bredin nodded, carefully. He sipped at the willow bark tea that the Healer had provided as he listened.

Kyminn paused, choosing his next words carefully. "You were right that I have been thinking very hard about something, something that is very, very important. It…" he hesitated again. "Lacaral, I would ask if you would please bespeak Rolan. Please tell him what happened, what your Chosen Saw. I would like Herald Talamir's permission to ask for your Chosen's help."

The Trainee's eyes widened, and Kyminn could have sworn that Lacaral's did too.

Kyminn looked from one to the other, "It's not up to me to explain _why_ I am asking you about what you Saw. But I do want you to know that what I am asking is sanctioned by both my Circle and yours."

Both the Trainee and Companion shared identical startled expressions as they fell into the 'listening' look that was so familiar.

 _::Lacaral?::_ The single word conveyed any number of questions.

Lacaral didn't respond for a moment. When he did, his mindvoice was troubled. _::Chosen, Rolan says that what you Saw was_ very i _mportant. He also said that Healer Kyminn is asking on the part of all three Circles. He says that Talamir says yes, you should help the Healer in this::_

Lacaral paused, and then added reluctantly. _:: There was an attack on a prospective Herald. The boy died and the Companion was injured. The items you Saw – two of them were found at the scene and apparently they are somehow linked to the attack.::_

 _::But…if a Companion was attacked, why aren't the Heralds the ones looking into it. Why a Healer?::_ Bredin's question wasn't argumentative – he was simply trying to make sense of the situation.

 _::They – we, the Circle - are. As for the Healer's part, there are several reasons, but the one that matters most at the moment is that Healer Kyminn and his wife helped kill the attackers. Healer Cydris nearly died as a result.::_

 _::Oh.::_ Bredin absorbed the information. _::And the other reasons?::_

 _::Are ones that can't be shared. But I trust Rolan that they are just as good as that one.::_

 _::And I trust you.::_ And that, as far as Bredin was concerned, was all that mattered. He turned his attention back to Kyminn.

"Healer Kyminn, Lacaral says that Rolan and Herald Talamir have said we should help you. Rolan told him about the attack, and your wife. Is she alright?"

Kyminn smiled. "Yes, thank you. She made a full recovery." His face sobered again. "I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's okay with both of you."

Bredin nodded for the pair.

"Your Gift is Farsight, yes?" At Bredin's nod of agreement, Kyminn continued. "Have you had much training in the use of it yet?"

Here, Trainee Bredin was on firm ground, and it showed in his answer. "I have. My Gift emerged before I was Chosen and I started training in the basics soon afterwards." Bredin didn't even pause as he added, with frank honesty, "It took a while for me to get the hang of it, but my instructors all agree that my Gift is fully trained. The only problem I have at the moment is that it's still developing. That means that sometimes I Find things just because people happen to be thinking about them. When that happens, I know I have to check my shields."

Kyminn looked pleased, and oddly relieved. "I infer that your Gift is quite a powerful one then?"

"I'm told that it is, but it's not something that I've ever compared to others." Bredin shrugged.

"Well, Trainee Kase, I _very_ badly need to find those objects. What do you need from me to help you locate them?"

"It depends. Sometimes a picture or an example helps, but most of the time it's enough that the person is thinking about it." Bredin's voice was dry, "And if it's not impertinent to say so Healer, you're thinking about those objects _really, really_ hard."

"I am. I have been for months now. Do you know where they are?" Kyminn nearly forgot to breathe.

Bredin nodded injudiciously and winced. "I do. I can show you on a map exactly where to find the warehouse. There's some pallets along the southeast wall. It's the fourth pallet from the left, the sack you want is in the third tier, second row. There are six little necklaces."

Kyminn swore. "Six!? Son of a…" He went on for several moments as months of frustration boiled over. Finally, he wound down.

"Trainee Kase, please accept my apologies for my outburst." Kyminn raked his hands through his hair. "I shouldn't have gone off like that, it's just that…"

"Lacaral says this has been very difficult, this thing you are doing. He says you've been working on it for a very long time." Bredin's nod was grave and oddly mature. "It's alright. We understand."

Kyminn released his anger in a gusty breath. "I thank you for that – both of you. And I hope that someday you get to hear the whole of it and you know just how very much help you've given today. In the meantime, I think we better find a map – and tell someone what you've found."

A polite tap at the door interrupted their discussion. Kyminn looked a question at Bredin, who shrugged and tipped his head in acquiescence. "Enter!" Kyminn called out.

The door opened to show a small figure in Trainee Greys.

"Bredin, I wanted to come and apologize," Ansen said. "What happened to your hair!?"

Bredin gestured at Kyminn. "He did." It was wry.

"Da!…Healer!…his hair!" Ansen seemed appalled at this development. "Bredin! I'm so, so very sorry!"

Bredin started to shake his head, but thought better of it. "It's not your fault. It was an accident."

Ansen came into the room, glancing from Kyminn to Bredin as though unsure of where his eyes should rest. Kyminn climbed to his feet. "While you two talk, I'll track down a map. Trainee Ansen, can you stay with Bredin here for a few minutes while I do that?"

Relieved of the need to divide his attention between family and duty, Ansen nodded.

As Kyminn left the room, Bredin sent a thought to Lacaral. _::?::_

 _::The Healer is Ansen's adoptive father. And yes, he's in the hallway, listening. I think he's worried about both of you. Don't worry, he won't interfere. He knows better.::_

"Bredin, I'm very sorry you got hurt. How bad is it?" Ansen's face was clouded with concern.

"Nothing too serious. Just a gash and a bump. Heralds have hard heads, everyone knows that!"

"Still, it shouldn't have happened."

"Did you _mean_ to hit me in the head with a sword?" Bredin countered.

"Of course not. But I should have checked my equipment."

Bredin listened to Lacaral for a moment. Then, "I doubt that Alberich agrees. Did the Weaponsmaster check the gear beforehand?"

A sigh. "Yes. He said he did. He said he didn't notice any problems."

"So? If he didn't, how would you? You're in your first year. You're still figuring out that the pointy end goes into the other fellow. Now, what, exactly, did Alberich have to say about this?"

Ansen frowned for a moment and then gave a faint shrug. "He said that the glue was old and could have given away at any time. It could have been the cold, or the wet, or any of a dozen things. He said we should take it as a reminder to check every piece of equipment, every time we pick it up. And then he made us go over every training sword in the salle and he showed us how to tell if it's good or not. Tomorrow we're doing bows and javelins. Along with our regular training." There was a bit of a grumble to the last part.

Bredin smiled and clapped the younger boy on the shoulder. "Then it sounds like you got exactly the lesson you deserved – and needed."

"But I still feel terrible that you got hurt," Ansen protested softly.

"Which is to be expected! If you didn't feel bad when you hurt someone, then it wouldn't be me you'd be answering to, it would start with your Companion…"

 _::Kandrel::_ Lacaral offered.

"Kandrel," Bredin added as Lacaral supplied the name, "And then the Dean, and then go downhill from there. Trust me Ansen, I would be the _last_ of your problems if that were the case!"

 _::Partly because I'd be in line in front of you. I'm bigger than you and can push you out of the way.::_ Lacaral pointed out.

He gave the other trainee a gentle shake. "That part that you are feeling is reasonable and appropriate. Any guilt for it is not. Just because Heralds are responsible for a lot doesn't mean we're responsible for _everything_. That's just pride talking."

 _::Well said, Chosen.::_ Lacaral's approval resonated through their bond.

"That's what Kandrel said too," Ansen said ruefully. "But I wanted to make sure I apologized in person."

"And you did, and thank you. Now, aside from your year-group getting a crash course in weapons care, did anything else happen in the lesson?"

Lacaral chuckled in the back of Bredin's mind. _::Well handled, two-footed brother. You redirected and corrected gently but firmly. I think that young fellow is too serious by far. And, you'll be happy to know, a certain Healer/father is tiptoeing down the hallway again, off to track down your map.::_

 ** _My thanks to Tantris for the loan of Bredin and Lacaral. Their input may just be the break in the case that Kyminn needed._**


	43. Chapter 43

Finding a map was relatively easy. Finding a senior Healer or Herald to receive their report was not. Talamir was in a meeting with some of the Councillors and would be tied up for quite some time. Tannel was closeted in a meeting of the senior Healers and had left strict instructions that they were not to be disturbed unless "the Collegium is falling down around our ears or Companions start to fly."

Kyminn started longingly at the modest dot on the map that told him where the amulets were hiding. Bredin had had no difficulty in pinpointing the location and, without being prompted, had expanded the search to cover the entirety of the city. Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – the necklaces in the warehouse were the only ones that Bredin had been able to Find.

"Months of searching and now that we finally have them, I have no idea what to do about it," Kyminn's voice was a growl.

The Trainee looked uneasy. "I really hope you don't want me to go get them for you." Outside the window, the Companion stamped his foot in agreement.

"No," Kyminn's lips twisted in a grimace. "Much as I want to get my hands on them, I don't think breaking into the building – or asking a Trainee to do it – is a very good idea. I'll admit though that I debated seeing if we could find someone to Fetch them for us." A sigh. "I can think of half a dozen courses of action, but all of them need the approval of a Herald."

Bredin looked relieved.

"Lacaral," Kyminn said thoughtfully, "would you be able to tell me if Heralds Tarva, Mansie or Randen happen to be around? They are all familiar with this case and would be able to provide some direction."

Trainee and Companion conferred for several minutes. "Lacaral says that Heralds Tarva and Mansie are both on Circuit. Lacaral was able to speak to Derris, Herald Randen's Companion. Derris says they are just outside Haven and will be starting back tomorrow afternoon." Bredin paused and then added, "Lacaral explained what we found to Derris. They will take the matter to Talamir and let you know when they have an answer."

It was though a weight had lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you," Kyminn tried to convey the depth of his appreciation in those two simple words. "Thank you, and like so many things you Heralds do, now that you've done wonderfully, I need to ask you to do just a little bit more."

"If we can," Bredin glanced at Lacaral, who nodded.

"It's very simple, thankfully. Now that we've found these things, it's vital that we not lose track of them again. I'll formally ask Dean Elcarth, but it may take a bit for permission to trickle down, so I'm filing my request under Rolan's permission to help. Do you feel up to checking on those necklaces a few times a day and letting me know if they move?"

"I can do that," the statement came with a decisive – if cautious – nod. "Rolan said we should help you on this, but I admit I'm glad someone is letting the Dean know what's going on. I understand the need for discretion, but I didn't want to seem like we were sneaking around.

"Now that I know where they are, I can check on them easily. If they move, you'll be one of the first to know."

"Trainee, you have no idea how glad I am that chance brought you to my door today. I'm just sorry it cost you your hair and a hell of a headache."

 _::Trust me Chosen, when I tell you that for this case, it is a very small price to pay..::_ Lacaral's mindvoice was troubled.

###

"You do realize, don't you, that you well and truly dropped the fox into the henhouse this time?" Randen's observation was sardonic.

"Not my intention, I promise. But this is the first real lead we've had in two years. I'm not an investigator, I'm a Healer. Where do we go from here?" Kyminn pushed the plate of sandwiches over to Randen. It had taken almost another two days for the Circles to confirm the information and come to a decision. Healer and Herald were meeting in Randen's rooms, the Herald's wing of the palace being the most discreet location that came to mind.

"First off, a second Farseer confirmed the Trainee's findings. The amulets are exactly where he said they are. That youngster's got a really excellent grasp of his Gift, by the way."

"I got that idea, but I'm no expert on the sorts of Gifts you Heralds come up with."

A snort. "In any case, we are – discreetly – looking into the warehouse and the goods it contains. It seems as though the warehouse is one of ours, the crown's that is. Everything that comes in is under a customs seal. The goods are recorded and sealed at the border, but the cartage firm doesn't pay the duties. They just carry the goods to Haven and load them into the bonded warehouse. From there, the importing owner is assessed the duties. Duties have to be paid before the goods are released for sale."

"But…that's awfully bold, don't you think? To smuggle something like that into a legitimate shipment that you _know_ is going to be inspected, tracked and verified?" Kyminn shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. Or am I missing something?"

"I said the same thing," Randen nodded. "And got a refresher in how goods are imported into Valdemar. For example, did you know that you need a permit to bring goods across the border?"

The Healer's brow wrinkled. "Umm. I don't think that I knew in so many words, but it seems obvious that that would be the case."

"Exactly. We've got agreements with several of our neighbours – Rethwellan and Hardorn chiefest among them. But you can't bring in just _anything_ , there are limits on items and quantity. For example, you don't want to have a flood of barley coming across the border and driving down the prices when that would hurt our own farmers. So there are limits and fees and tariffs and whatnot to try to keep things more or less balanced."

"Alright," Kyminn dug into the generous serving of peach cobbler. "I think I knew that. What's that got to do with our bags of rice and their nasty little surprises?"

"Well, the treaties provide for a few main border crossing points. These are manned by the Guard and a roving Herald. The Herald assigned this circuit is always a Farseer. His or her job is partly to iron out any diplomatic issues that arise and partly to prevent smuggling. In addition to general patrols, along with the Guard, the Herald inspects all the goods that come across. The border stations have locked warehouses like this one. Goods arrive and if it's something the Guard can inspect, the goods get sent on. But for stuff like your bags of rice that you'd have to dump out, it gets locked up and waits for the Herald.

"We're still checking, but I'm expecting that the Herald's report will say they didn't find anything untoward."

Kyminn didn't try to hide is confusion. "Then how did they get there?"

Randen raised an eyebrow. "Think about it for a moment. Remember the last battle of the war?"

Kyminn cast his mind back, recalling the chaos that had surrounded the final battle and the death of Sendar. It took a moment before the memory clicked. "Oh! The Tedrels used Gifts against us, to hide their army! Someone could have Fetched the amulets in there at any time!" He looked appalled. "That just threw everything wide open again!"

A headshake. "Not necessarily. While there are some rogue Gifts here and there, they are relatively rare. We aren't discounting the possibility that someone in Group X has an undisclosed gift that they are using against us, but personally, I think that's a long shot. To my mind, it would have been much easier for someone across the border to have inserted that package as soon as the Herald signed off on the shipment. It's quite possible those bags sat there for several days before getting shipped out."

"And of course, we'd have no way of knowing or monitoring it." Kyminn nodded. "It makes sense."

"As I said, that's my personal take on it. However, we are looking into both possibilities. We have to assume though, that who ever buys that shipment of rice is expecting an extra little bonus. _That_ is something we are also trying to figure out – where that rice is going."

"Oof. That's a lot of work. Is the package still there?"

A nod while Randen chewed a bite of cobbler. "It is. Your young Trainee did a good job of keeping an eye on it. Elcarth will probably take him off it in another day or so. As soon as Bredin's recovered he probably won't have time to keep it up."

"Hmm. I can just see it now – 'Excuse me Herald Alberich, would you mind not swinging at me? I need to just do this super-secret thing for the Dean. Hold on for a moment, would you?' No, I agree. The sooner he can hand it off, the better."

Randen laughed. "Admit it Kyminn. If you weren't a Healer, you'd be a spy. You're too curious for your own good!"

Conveniently for the Healer, his mouth was too full of dessert to have to respond. When he could speak again, he turned the subject. "So what's the plan? Are you going to seize the package? Frankly, I'd dearly love to get those ugly things off the street."

Randen sobered. "You and me both. And to answer your question, we're leaving them in place. It took us this long to get this far. If we let on that we know about them, we tip off the conspirators and we may never get another chance. No, we're going to keep an eye on them and see if we can't follow the amulets to their source – or destination. Hopefully, this time we'll be able to find someone we can question."

"If you're suggesting I should have gone easier…"

The Herald held up a hand in placation. "Not in the slightest. You did exactly what you had to do and I'd have done the same. All I meant was that hopefully this time we'll be acting on a plan, not reacting to a crisis."

Mollified, Kyminn finished his dessert. "You'll let me know as much as you're able?"

"Of course."

###

"Sorry to disturb your breakfast, Kyminn." Tannel held up a pot of tea in silent query and, at Kyminn's nod, poured a second mug.

"Not a problem sir. Your message said it was urgent." Kyminn was still breathing hard from his hobble across the grounds. Cydris hadn't said anything at the message, merely threw his cloak around his shoulders and shut the door behind him.

"I'm afraid it is. Or rather, could be. You see, young Bredin sent a message last night. The amulets are moving."

"Sir?" It ended in a yelp as Kyminn bolted upright, splashing the tea on his hand. He waved the hand to cool it, his attention on the Dean.

"The bag containing the package – along with a couple of others, was moved out of the warehouse yesterday. They were sent to a dining establishment just off Chandler's Way. As soon as Bredin notified us, we set him to keeping an 'eye' on the package. He and another Farseer took it in turns. Late last night, the package moved again."

"Where is it now? Or can you tell me that?"

"In an inn near Flower Street. Or rather, part of it is. Last night, two of the amulets left town, headed roughly northwest. This morning, a second pair left, this time headed south." Tannel waited until Kyminn nodded in understanding. "Arrangements have been made to follow the first two sets. One of the pairs is being tracked by a Herald, I'm not sure what is happening with the second. When the third pair leaves – if it does – you're going with it."

"Sir?!" Kyminn's jaw fell open in surprise.

"There are not enough Heralds available to follow these things around the country. All _we_ need is to know where they go and who receives them. All _you_ need to do is have a crow or raven follow along while you make notes."

A host of objections bubbled up and Kyminn picked the most obvious one. "What if they try to use them?"

"From what I've been told of these things, it will be pretty clear if that's the case. You should have plenty of time to get a warning to the target – or a message to the closest Guard unit. You are NOT to get directly involved."

He tried again. "Sir, it's nearly tenth month. This isn't a good season to travel."

"It's possible they will stay put until spring. If that's the case, there may be someone else we can send. In the meantime, it's you. I'm afraid you may be in for a rather grim time of it. You'd be sleeping rough – we don't want you in the same town or inn as the amulets."

Kyminn sighed and tried one last objection. "What about Cydris?"

Tannel looked sympathetic, but simply said, "She won't be the first spouse left to fend for herself when a Healer gets assigned somewhere on short notice. Don't worry, we'll adjust things on this end to accommodate the fact that she'll be managing her duties _and_ three small children. That, at least, is something we have a good deal of experience with you know."

"I know sir. It's just…I know she'd rather be coming with me."

"I dare say she would. But she doesn't have Animal Mindspeech. If she did, you might be the one staying here instead. But I am not going to risk two parents when I don't have to." Tannel's tone softened a bit. "Go and tell her the news. I'll arrange to have gear made up. I expect you may find yourself leaving in a hurry."


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

'In a hurry' proved to be optimistic. When the amulets had sat undisturbed for more than a month, Kyminn, mystified, found himself summoned to meet with Alberich.

Kyminn had seen little of the Weaponsmaster since the Prince's death by 'misadventure'. The reclusive Herald seldom left the vicinity of the salle save for his presence beside the Queen in his role as her bodyguard. As for the Healer, he had long since abandoned his weapons work when other matters had overtaken his time. Kyminn had not set foot in the salle since arranging for Renya's training some time before.

The salle, and the taciturn Herald, were precisely as Kyminn recalled, Alberich's dark leathers a fitting match for his unreadable expression and the silent, cavernous space.

"Good evening Herald Alberich." Kyminn offered a cautious nod, deciding in the moment not to avail himself of the bench.

Alberich was silent for several moments, his glance measuring, assessing, deciding.

"So. A spy you think you are."

Whatever Kyminn had expected, _that_ was more certainly not it. "With all respect, no. I am most certainly _not_ a spy. A researcher and sometimes an inadvertent investigator, yes. Sometimes I am even an observer who reports back. But a spy? No."

"But Talamir would have you a spy be, is this not so?"

"Talamir would like me to observe," Kyminn equivocated. "From a distance, without contact. I'm not sure that counts as _spying_."

Alberich snorted. "Think you that the observer, observed in turn is not? By others if not the quarry? Foolish to think so, and dangerous."

The nod was reluctant. "True. And one reason I argued that there are better choices for the task."

"If not then this task, then perhaps another, no? And preparation is a tool that fits many hands. So, prepare you I will."

Kyminn couldn't hide his alarm. "I'm not sure that I am the right person for this…."

"Attempts on your life there have been, yes? And that of your family? Protect them, you wish to?"

"But…" Kyminn waved weakly with his cane. "This just screams 'vulnerable'. I'd rather avoid a fight if I can."

"Stupid, I am not." The words were thick with scorn. "Run, you cannot. Stand and fight, you cannot. Defend and disable you must. Better still to avoid altogether." The Herald paused again, then nodded sharply once.

"An agent is one who can become many. Unremembered and unremarkable. For you, this is not possible, so a strength we must make of your weakness."

Kyminn didn't try to hide his confusion.

"Remember the limping man, people will." It was exasperated. "YOU must decide what it is they remember of the limping man, what they think." The Herald took the cane from Kyminn's unresisting grasp.

Without seeming to change more than his stance, his expression, his demeanor, Alberich became…someone else. Where there had been a tall, strong warrior there was now an unassuming fellow, meek and non-threatening. No one seeing this fellow could dream that he was dangerous, or duplicitous.

Kyminn's jaw dropped at the transformation and a part of his mind wondered if Kantor had laid some sort of vision before his mind.

Without a word, Alberich shifted again. The meek fellow disappeared, replaced by a confident man, one who silently admitted his limitations but warned you not to test them.

In quick succession, the Herald became a swaggering thug, petty and cruel, a frail oldster, doddering and harmless, and a timorous crippled fellow, timid and pitiable.

"How...?"

"When a patient you see, signs there are, no? This one will not admit his pain, that one lies about how he came to be injured. Yes?"

Kyminn nodded.

"Simply another form of knowledge this is. Knowledge is a weapon and honed it must be. Practice this, you will."

For the next half candlemark, Alberich grilled Kyminn. What kind of places had he been? Where might he go? What skills did he have?

In the end, they determined that Kyminn would present one of two demeanors. Both were sides of the same coin – that of a disabled veteran with skills as horse leech and trainer. Alberich pointed out that the closer they could stay to the truth, the less likelihood there was of Kyminn tripping up.

The harder part would be learning the two aspects, when to use them and how to tell if the audience accepted them.

The first persona was the one Alberich had first shown Kyminn – that of an agreeable, unassuming fellow, unambitious and a bit slow.

"Old Jo? Nah then, couldn't be him! Hasn't got it in 'im!" Kyminn goggled at Alberich's perfect imitation of a rough labourer describing someone he knew well.

The other persona was almost more difficult. This fellow was confident in his abilities, a role Kyminn had no difficulty assuming. This fellow though, had a touch of arrogance that dared one to test his implied vulnerability. _This_ fellow left one wary, wondering what made him so sure of himself, but not enough that one felt compelled to knock the cockiness out of him.

To Kyminn's chagrin, Alberich made it abundantly clear that Kyminn would be learning more than just acting skills. "Run you cannot, so close you must. Disable or kill, quickly and decisively."

# # #

The winter was spent waiting. Waiting and working. Alberich settled on a limited set of moves and defenses and drilled Kyminn relentlessly in their use. He stood no chance against an expert, or even a reasonably intelligent and trained opponent. But for someone who thought that disability equalled weakness, Kyminn had a few surprises in store. He took to wearing more than one set of concealed knives about his person and his cane was heavier too, being drilled out and reinforced with a metal core. Not only would it buy time to block a blow, it made an admirable club in its own right.

To Cydris's displeasure, the Heraldic Circle stuck with the original plan of having Kyminn follow the last set of amulets and made her dislike of the plan abundantly clear. In the end, she acquiesced, but with great reluctance. The stiff set of her shoulders and her pursed lips each time she spread salve on Kyminn's bruises had spoken volumes. As the months wore on, the delay eventually worn both of them down, Cydris's anger sliding into disquiet as Kyminn began to wonder if the amulets had been forgotten.

One saving grace of this stasis was that the extra time had allowed for messages to go out to the Guard and Heralds on circuit, warning them and giving explicit direction to help without question if required. So when the message finally arrived, they were more or less ready.

# # #

"I'm starting to think the whole universe thinks this was a bad idea." Kyminn grumbled aloud to the grey forest and tried to pull his cloak tighter around himself. It didn't help. The cold, sleeting rain seemed to take devilish delight in finding every possible gap and seam. He'd long since lost feeling in his thighs. It was ostensibly spring, but the weather seemed to have missed the memo on that fact.

The horse twitched an ear back, his entire posture conveying _his_ opinion on being out in this weather. A flick back at the mind of the spare mount proved that she shared the feeling. Even Jet, balanced precariously behind Kyminn, was unhappy. Plaintive whines emerged every time a gust of wind slashed the rain around to the side as the dog renewed her efforts to huddle against the barrier of Kyminn's back.

Kyminn hunkered down and reached for the mind of the raven he was currently using to follow the amulets. The bird's extreme dislike of being asked to move about in these conditions merely added to the overall unhappy mood. Out of sympathy for the creature, Kyminn borrowed the corvid's eyes just long enough to confirm that their quarry was still moving and nothing had changed. For the past fortnight, their fellow traveller had borne steadily south and eastward along the trade-road.

Kyminn was keeping an open mind, but more and more he was starting to think that their quarry had no idea what he was carrying. Late in fourth moon, the amulets had abruptly moved, shifting from their spot in rafters of the inn and into the stable. Two days later, they left the city, borne by this innocuous seeming fellow. On the other hand, Kyminn had spent the winter learning how to be an 'innocuous seeming fellow'. The whole point was to NOT wear a sign that declared to all 'By the way, I'm secret agent'. If nothing else, the fellow was consistent in his persona – spy or otherwise. By this time in their journey, Kyminn could have recited the man's story from memory.

"On my way to meet Lord Grogan's man and turn this pretty little lady over to him."

The 'pretty little lady' was a well-bred palfrey mare who was, as Kyminn's Gift had confirmed, just recently bred. Whether or not it was as the man claimed, that the sire was one of Lord Orthallen's studs, Kyminn had no way of telling.

"She's sold to Lord Grogan and I've been commissioned to deliver her. Bugger that she picked up a stone bruise last fall just before she was to be put to stud. M'Lord didn't want to risk her travelling until she was fully healed, so now it's all pushed back till now and I'm soaked to the skin. I imagine it won't get better between here and Trevale though. Best fortify myself with beer hey?"

To the man's credit, he was scrupulous in the care of his own, rather more plebeian, mount and the palfrey. He checked each animal over carefully each evening and morning. More often than not, the agent checked on his charges before retiring and twice now he had paid the stable lad extra to do a thorough oiling of the tack. The mare was bearing her own saddle, bridle and saddle blanket, all embellished, the gear protected from the elements by a canvas horse-blanket bearing (presumably) the device of Lord Grogan.

Agent. High bred mare. Custom tack. All of it, as near as Kyminn could tell, was simply so that a saddle blanket with two small discs sewn inside could be delivered to…someone or other. At this point, Kyminn had no idea who was a pawn and who was involved. Was it this fellow? Lord Grogan? Lord Grogan's man? Lord Orthallen?

As the quarry settled in to yet another inn, Kyminn found a suitable thicket for his own rest. Stringing up the canvas which would afford the horses some relief from the rain, Kyminn called the raven back. He had taken the bird beyond the creature's accustomed territory and the bird had had no time to forage. Kyminn made sure to set out enough food for both evening and morning meals, ensuring the bird remembered where to find the food. Finally, he gave the bird an extra wash of energy, impressing on the small mind the direction of home. By the end of the next day, the raven should be back where he belonged, none the worse for his adventure. Tomorrow, Kyminn would find a new bird and repeat the process all over again.

Early in the trip, before he had learned their destination, Kyminn had debated sending Jet in to examine the fellow's horses and gear. Fortunately, Kyminn had decided to wait until he had a sense of the man's routine before doing so. Given the agent's habit of spontaneously making his own checks, there was a good chance that Jet could have been seen. While it was unlikely that a mixed breed dog sniffing around a stable would be likely to elicit much comment, it wasn't a risk Kyminn was quite prepared to take. Not yet, at any rate.

# # #

For the next month, Kyminn trailed the agent. Unlike the quarry, Kyminn's pace was irregular, marked as it was by stops to purchase food for himself and his beasts as well as leaving reports at every Guard station, Waystation and Healing Temple on his route. For a dangerous task, it was appallingly boring for the most part.

As they approached Trevale, Kyminn increased his level of scrutiny, trying very hard to keep the agent always under observation. More than once Kyminn reflected on how ironic it would prove if, at some point, the amulets had been moved and Kyminn had failed to notice. He profoundly hoped that were that the case, Tannel would, by this point, gotten word to Kyminn and called off the hunt.

The raven quorked happily as he perched on the ridge pole of one of the larger buildings. Kyminn got the clear impression that the bird liked this place and saw many possibilities for foraging and nesting. This one was _not_ interested in returning to his previous territory.

Kyminn was even happier than the raven, for Trevale was large enough to boast not one, but two good-sized inns. Judging from the traffic in each, one catered mostly to caravan traffic, the other to smaller groups. It meant, at any rate, that Kyminn could safely spend the night indoors without risking discovery.

The agent seemed to know precisely where he was going, for the man headed straight for the smaller of the two inns. Like its counterpart, this one was four wings wrapped around a central courtyard. One wing was the inn proper while another was the kitchen, topped by servant's quarters on the second floor. The remaining two wings were stables, with open fronted sheds that a carriage might back into. This early in the season, there was only a single coach there and Kyminn was unsurprised to see that it bore the same device as on the palfrey's gear.

As soon as he was sure the agent was settled indoors, Kyminn rode into Trevale. He'd chosen to adopt the quieter of the two personas. He wasn't interested in attracting attention or comment. He made a point of looking each inn over carefully before choosing the larger, simpler one. From the occasional word that emerged as the season's first caravans wrangled for space, this was definitely the less genteel of the two.

Non-descript and trail-worn as he was, Kyminn didn't object when the innkeeper demanded proof of solvency along with the night's board up front. Kyminn haggled a bit, and in keeping with his persona, settled quickly when the innkeeper sourly came down only a half-penny. It was proving difficult to pay attention his surroundings while half his mind was in the stables, watching the agent groom the palfrey until she shone. It made Kyminn rather glad he'd selected the more daft of his two Healer quickly settled into as quiet a corner as he could manage, keeping his attention on the relatively decent stew while he followed the agent from the stables and into the inn proper. When the man indicated that his next stop was the bathing room, Kyminn hastily left off observing, leaving the inn's cat free to wander back to her hearth and the chance of some dropped morsels.

Torn between watching for the agent and wondering if he should watch the saddle blanket instead, Kyminn compromised. Jet had enjoyed the hearty meal of scraps that Kyminn's copper had gained so she only grumbled a bit when Kyminn sent her off to the second inn. A thorough sniff of the saddle blanket showed that it bore only the scents of the agent and stable hand, so presumably the amulets were still intact. Under her master's direction, Jet made a nest in a dark corner, then settled in to watch.


	45. Chapter 45

It was harder than he'd expected to maintain that tenuous connection with Jet while trying to sleep himself. Kyminn had selected a spot near the door of the common sleeping room, staking out a place by simple virtue of occupation. He'd had no challengers – the location he wanted was prone to disruption as other guests came and went. It meant Kyminn would be wakened frequently, giving him ample opportunities to check on the dog. Likewise, it meant he could depart without notice should the need arise.

The tug on Jet's attention pulled him out of a fitful doze shortly after dawn. The first of the day's travellers was rousting out the sleepy stable lad, demanding mount and gear. After issuing a barrage of orders, the fellow departed for the warmth of the inn and his breakfast. The stable hand made short work of preparing the traveller's mount, hands moving with practiced diligence in spite of the early hour.

Kyminn watched through Jet's eyes, but neither the stable lad nor traveller came anywhere near the saddle blanket. Kyminn waited through the next two rounds of travellers, Jet's grumbles becoming increasingly strident as she reminded the Healer that her stomach was empty and her bladder still full, thank you very much.

"The black gelding sir?" The lad paused in his shoveling to address the guest. A duck of the head and tuck of the forelock accompanied the query.

The response was a nod and a grunt. While the worker bustled about his duties, the traveller cast his gaze around the barn, every inch oozing imperious impatience. When the stable boy went to remove the gelding's nose bag, the visitor spoke up. "Leave it. Have the kitchen do up breakfast and lunch packets for me. And make sure there's no slop. I'll not have anyone think I'll settle for scraps and seconds at my nooning just because I'm too far away to complain."

As soon as the stable hand was out of sight, the traveller moved. Without a second glance, he ran his hands over the saddle blanket, paying particular attention to the corners. A quick hiss of satisfaction and a tiny blade came out, picking at the seam. It took only moments to open a gap large enough for the amulets to slip out and another moment for a tug on the loose thread and quick knot to close the opening.

The fellow had the amulets in his pocket and was returned to his original position long before the youngster returned, bearing the requested parcels. The traveller – or rather, agent – made a show of examining the food with a critical eye, finally offering a terse nod of acceptance for the offerings.

Quickly, but with not undue speed, the nosebag was whisked away and the agent mounted, trotting briskly towards the edge of town. Kyminn released Jet with instructions for the dog to make her way back to Kyminn – and her breakfast – while Kyminn found a grumbling crow and set it watching this new target.

Certain now that he was very close to his final answers, Kyminn didn't delay. This time, he would follow at only a half candle-mark or so, just far enough back to remain out of sight.

The agent moved with purpose, departing the trade road in short order, moving north and east into the Armour Hills. As the day wore on, the agent moved from the road onto a secondary track. At this point, the pace picked up, the agent showing every sign of pressing for a particular destination.

Well after dark – and long after Kyminn had thought the fellow would be able to push his horse, the agent slowed, finally pulling up beside a small stream. Kyminn hung back, baffled. The agent had pushed hard, but the site chosen seemed entirely random. There was nothing to recommend it, nor was there any sign that anyone had even used it before.

Kyminn had had to release the crow some time earlier. While he could have continued to control the bird, the crow was extremely reluctant to fly in the dark. Coupled with the creature's poor night vision, there was nothing to be gained from forcing the bird to continue. Instead, Kyminn pushed Jet forward, the dog following the agent from the underbrush. The darkness had at least forced the agent to slow his pace, else Jet would have been unable to keep up. Even so, the dog was exhausted from the hours on her feet.

As Kyminn watched, the agent made a sketchy camp and settled in for the night. It was hard to credit that this was intentional as the man had little in the way of gear. Were it not for his movements seeming so purposeful, Kyminn would have thought that this was a spontaneous detour.

The next morning, a new crow watched as the agent packed up and remounted. The fellow handled the horse carelessly, often roughly at times. Where Kyminn would have expected the animal to balk, the horse silently endured the treatment. Kyminn added it to the growing list of reasons to loathe this fellow.

The Healer followed as closely as he dared, Jet riding pillion on the pack horse. Kyminn wanted her well rested if she had to take to the track again. The agent returned to his previous quick pace, wending from one small track to another as the puzzled Healer followed.

"Damn!" Kyminn jerked his head up as the crow gave a caw of anger. Another crow was winging towards the interloper, clearly determined to drive off the newcomer. This was far from the first time this had happened. Following a single bird for an extended period often lead to territorial incidents like this. Kyminn knew better than to try to control his own bird during these squabbles. Better to let natural instinct take over and then have Kyminn take up with the victor.

Tussles such as these seldom lasted long and this one was no different. Within a short span, one crow was hastily departing, pursued by the other. Kyminn waited until the victor began to circle back and began to hunt for the crow's mind. He was busy searching when Jet growled.

Kyminn's eyes snapped open and he froze. A scant twenty yards away, the agent stood athwart the path, a drawn hunting bow pointed at Kyminn's chest. The man's horse stood behind, reins dropped to ground-tie the animal.

"One word to the dog and you die. Then it does." The words were guttural.

A mental command held Jet fast as Kyminn thought frantically. A single tug would release the pack horse's lead rope, giving the agent another target (or Kyminn another weapon). Unfortunately, that would mean moving and Kyminn would be dead before his hand got halfway to the tether.

Kyminn instead reached for the agent's horse. Even the momentary distraction would create an opportunity. Confident, Kyminn reached for the gelding's mind, preparing to launch the animal at the agent's back.

Nothing.

Kyminn failed to hide his shock as his attempt met with only blankness. Not a shield this, this was something different, an opaque and oily darkness that seemed to cling and slide greasily away at the same time. Repulsed, Kyminn recoiled.

If the agent noticed, he gave no sign. Instead, a gesture of the chin as the bow remained steady. "Down. Slowly. Remember there's more than enough time for you to die."

Kyminn complied, his movements intentionally fumbling and frail. He made to grab his cane from its strapping but a headshake stopped his hand.

"No weapons."

"It's just my cane." Kyminn made it meek and a touch plaintive. "I've a bad leg, you see."

"Then limp. Or crawl. I don't care."

There was a flutter of wings and a crow settled on a branch beside the agent. Then another, and another, until four black forms sat, eerily silent and staring at Kyminn. Sure of what he would find this time, Kyminn reached out cautiously with his Gift, withdrawing quickly when he touched that roiling blankness.

As Kyminn continued to watch, one of the crows launched itself from the branch, touching down on the agent's shoulder. The bird dipped its head, beak plucking at something in the agent's breast pocket. Silently, a second bird floated down, repeating the action. Both birds simply sat on the agent's shoulders, something small and dark dangling from their beaks.

"Lift the dog."

That wasn't what Kyminn had been expecting. He looked from the stranger to Jet and back again.

"Lift the dog off the horse. Do not put it down."

It was, Kyminn had to admit, a good way to ensure that neither man nor dog was an immediate threat. An arrow would find either of them long before they could disentangle themselves. Slowly, his limp much in evidence, Kyminn moved back to the packhorse, hefting Jet in his arms. At seventy pounds, the dog wasn't a burden Kyminn would be able to bear for long.

As he stood there, weak knee aching, Kyminn's head turned, following the crows as they flapped heavily away from the agent's shoulders and landed, wings wide for balance, on the horse's rumps. Something flared in Kyminn's mental vision as his connection to the horses was cut off. So abrupt was the severing that he staggered briefly.

The horses should have bucked, or shifted, or shown _some_ reaction to the crows. Instead, they stood silently, not even an ear flickering. The unnatural stillness made Kyminn's skin crawl.

"Put the dog down and tie this on it." The agent shifted his grip on the bow just long enough for a length of cord to flutter to the ground. One of the remaining crows hopped off the branch and picked up the cord, walking forward to lay it at Kyminn's feet. This close, Kyminn could see the band of dark thread tied around the bird's leg.

Certain that the moment the cord touched Jet he would lose her, Kyminn slowly bent to set the dog down. With a mental apology for the sacrifice he was about to ask of her, he fed all his fear and rage into the dog. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she catapulted her body at the agent, snarling her outrage. Kyminn threw himself flat and to the side, hoping that the arrow would find the dog first.

Instead of the expected twang of a bowstring, there was a clatter as the agent dropped the bow, spinning in place as one hand darted out. A second loop, one Kyminn hadn't seen, dropped neatly around the dog's neck.

Kyminn was still rolling, evading the arrow that hadn't come. He didn't even have time to regain his knees before Jet bowled him over, the dog snapping and tearing. When the dog's jaws closed around his throat, Kyminn froze, the dog's hot saliva running down his cheek.

Slow, unhurried footsteps scuffed in the dirt as the agent slowly circled the tableau. Finally, the man squatted down where Kyminn could see him.

"I must say," the words were gleeful with self satisfaction, "I expected you Heralds to be a lot smarter than this."


	46. Chapter 46

**IF YOU HAVE PREVIOUSLY READ CHAPTER 46, PLEASE NOTE THAT IT HAS BEEN REVISED, EXPANDED AND SPLIT INTO CHAPTERS 46 AND 47. THERE IS SUBSTANTIAL NEW CONTENT.**

 _This is not for the squeamish. You have been warned._

For all his cockiness, the agent seemed oddly unprepared to deal with a captive. He dithered for some time while Jet patiently maintained her chokehold on Kyminn's windpipe.

"Must tie him up. Rope, rope…" the agent muttered as he dumped out Kyminn's gear. "Ah…." Brandishing the rope, the agent tied a line to each of Kyminn's wrists. The bindings were professional – snug but not too tight. It was an odd contrast to the man's previous indecision.

Wrists secure, the agent sat back and pondered again. Kyminn made a token attempt to struggle, only to find himself gasping for air as jaws clamped down. As soon as he was free to breathe again, he made sure to lie very, very still.

After a few moments of consideration, the agent stood, electing to maintain his control over Kyminn by the brutally direct method of kicking the Healer in the head until Kyminn was too dazed to struggle.

At that point, it was a fairly straightforward operation for the agent to cast the lines over the branches of two nearby trees. In an odd, lopsided fashion, the agent pulled first one rope and then the other as he pulled the prisoner to his feet. Judging from the cursing and lurching effort, agent was clearly struggling lifting Kyminn's semi-conscious weight. Knowing that his captor was physically weak was valuable information. It was also presently useless.

By the time the agent was satisfied with all the knots and bonds, Kyminn was more or less clear-headed again. Already his shoulders and knee were beginning to ache with the strain and his joints throbbed in counterpoint to his head.

"What do I call you?" Kyminn was surprised at how rough and tremulous his voice was.

The agent glanced over a shoulder and smirked. He had finished dumping out Kyminn's gear and was now carefully examining the contents. From the way he was poking and prodding, it was clear fellow was no stranger to hidden compartments and secrets.

"You think that I am an actor in a badly written glee-play? That I will lay all my plans and plots before you? Then when your Companion and fellow Heralds ride to your rescue, all my thoughts will be laid bare?"

Kyminn pretended not to notice the sarcasm. "Well, if you're offering, I'd be happy to accept."

The veneer of humour fell away, leaving a savageness was shocking in its magnitude. For the first time, it occurred to Kyminn that his captor may not be completely sane.

"Herald!" The agent dropped the pack he'd been examining and advanced on the Healer. "You wish to know this? You think you have power here? I am my Lady's bonded servant, her voice and arm. SHE is the power here."

The man made a small gesture and one of the crows hopped off the branch to rest at their feet. Even without his Gifts, Kyminn could tell the creature was terrified.

With a casual cruelty that was equal parts nauseating and terrifying, the agent flexed and twisted his fingers, the bird's body bending and breaking in response. The man's delight in the creature's cries of pain made Kyminn want to vomit. Eventually, after far too long a span, the agent slowly closed his fist, the crow's body crushing and bleeding as it writhed in the dirt. With a final shriek, the bird died, and the agent snapped his fingers open, dusting off his hands as though pleased with his work. He seemed oddly pleased and sated by what had just occurred.

Bending down, the agent tugged gently on the black thread bound around the crow's leg. Kyminn felt the hair stand up on his neck as the thread unwound itself and then, like an unholy snake, crawled up his captor's arm and joined the woven rope of similar threads that encircled the agent's neck. The woven cord was almost difficult to look at, seeming to twist away from one's gaze. Even more oddly, it was a single piece with no knot, no clasp. Kyminn was quite sure that it had been…created…somehow around the man's neck.

The agent's hand brushed the rope in an unconscious gesture. "You see, Herald? I bear Her power and you Heralds cannot defeat us." One finger traced the scar on Kyminn's cheek. "I would not have thought your queen would have use for a deformed Herald. Still, you will suffice.

"My birds tell me your horse is not close. If you think to protect it from me, you are wrong. My lady understands bindings and she knows that you and your Companions are bound together. Kill one and you kill the other. Hurt one," the blow to his weak knee made Kyminn drop, suspended only by his aching shoulders. "Hurt the one, and the other must respond. How much will it take Herald, before your bond-horse can bear it no longer and arrives to rescue you?"

The agent leaned close, spittle flecking Kyminn's cheek. "Personally? I'm hoping it's a lot."

# # #

Kyminn hadn't known it was possible to be this terrified. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, muscles burning as he tried to relieve the strain from knees or shoulders. He was discovering that he actually welcomed the pain, a counterpoint to the fear.

The agent had, thankfully, turned back to rifling through Kyminn's packs. It had been galling to watch the fellow set up camp with Kyminn's own tent and gear, until Kyminn realized with a start that the man had brought no gear of his own. That confirmed Kyminn's first impression that the agent had not planned for this contingency. Kyminn cursed his own deadly overconfidence in blithely following this man into the wilderness.

As the day waned, Kyminn hung there, parched and quivering as his muscles spasmed. The agent seemed to be in no particular rush to deal with the prisoner. Instead, the fellow puttered about, fussily arranging the gear just so. Eventually, the agent untacked the horses, ignoring them as they grazed. The birds likewise foraged, their movements oddly stilted and unnatural. Jet followed at the agent's heels, a black and grey shadow, silent and obedient. Kyminn had tried to reach her with his Gifts, but one after another simply slid off the shield of the binding. Not even his Empathy breached the barrier.

Finally, the agent's movements became purposeful. From his own gear he removed a flat piece of polished tin. Had it not been so evident that this article as important, Kyminn would have taken it for a mirror.

The agent seated himself on the ground, legs crossed tailor-style. He set up a small, three-legged stand about a handspan tall. Burnishing the metal disk carefully with a cloth, the agent set the piece flat on the stand. Next, the agent carefully dribbled water onto the disk until it formed a bubble, a liquid lens over the reflective base. Lastly, the agent took a sharp knife and, without flinching, sliced open his thumb, the blood dripping and darkening the bubble.

"Jaek." The word came from the lens, clear but with the echo of distance. "Speak, worm, quickly."

"My lady." The agent prostrated himself before resuming his seat. "I have good news."

"You have a child?" The woman's voice rose sharply, an edge of greed and hunger beneath it. 

"I do not, my lady…" the man began, then froze, his hand flying to his throat, "Something better, my lady! I bring you a Herald!" he choked out the words.

Silence from the lens as Jaek's hands tugged at the choking noose around his neck.

"I see." The tone was thoughtful this time and Jaek took great gulps of air as the pressure eased. "You are certain?"

"My lady, he knew of the seekers, your gifts to us. He followed them – followed me. You remember, my lady, I told you that the Heralds might know of these. Your agent in Haven warned me and I bore the warning to you."

"Do not try to tally in the ledger of my favour," it was a hiss and the agent prostrated himself again. "What the Privy Council knows, the Heralds know." The voice trailed off as Jaek's Lady considered the matter. "It appears you spoke truth, my agent and you. The Heralds are aware of my little toys, which means their utility has come to an end. Pity. They were useful, and you and your fellows did well to bring me so many choice prizes. They will be destroyed." There was a pause. "It is done. Let the Heralds play with their pretty little trinkets now. They are nothing more than paint and string now that I have withdrawn my power from them."

The agent sat up, cautiously, settling on his knees before the stand. Kyminn had the strange impression that the person on the other side could see Jaek clearly even though the lens lay flat.

The voice was thoughtful. "Still, there is yet the heir. Time enough for that." The woman's voice shifted from thoughtful to crisp. "Tell me about this Herald. You have not yet bound the Companion. I would know."

"No, my lady." Jaek hurried his words. "Not yet. The new bindings you feel are but low creatures, some horses and a dog, nothing more. They accompanied the Herald. But I can get it, my lady, I promise. I can bring you the Companion. It will not permit the Herald to suffer, my lady, and when it arrives to free him – then it will be yours."

"And you, my servant, will channel its power to me. Its death will give me enough power – the right power – to banish the vrondi and let me work openly at your side."

"My lady," the agent's eyes glowed with an almost manic fervour, "will there be enough power? For me, I mean."

"You?" It was sharp, and then soothing. "Yes, my faithful Jaek, there will be enough. Enough to free your potential and awaken your Gift. Then you need serve as a channel no more and instead, will be free of your bonds at last."

The agent bowed deeply, his voice rough with gratitude. "I will not fail you, my lady. The creature shall be yours, as I am yours." He added something in a language unfamiliar to Kyminn.

"Serve me well, Jaek." The voice was part warning, part caress. Jaek sat up, eyes closed and back arched. He cried out, a sound of almost pain. As the man groaned, Kyminn looked away, the man's orgiastic ecstasy leaving Kyminn feeling soiled.

# # #

"Where is your Companion?" For two full days, Jaek had asked the same question.

As torturers went, Jaek was rough and clumsy. That didn't prevent him from being effective. Kyminn had decided almost immediately that there was nothing to be gained from trying to withhold information. Getting tangled in lies would only lead to more pain as the agent attempted to sort out fact from fiction.

"No Companion. Not a Herald. Healer. Animal Healer. No human Gift." The words were slurred through Kyminn's swollen face. At some point, one of Jaek's blows had fractured Kyminn's jaw. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd repeated the mantra.

Jaek squealed in rage and drove a needle through a finger joint. Kyminn screamed, his throat too raw and torn to make a sound. He cried out with voice and mind, his world reduced to pain and fear.

"Where is the Companion?"

Kyminn could only moan in reply.

…

"How much do the Heralds know?"

"Everything. I've told them everything I know."

…

"How did you find us?"

"My daughter. Someone interfered with her training."

That response had set Jaek to pacing. "The one we gave the inheritance to? No, that one went to My Lady. Her family's silence was easy to buy…the one he tried to drive out. The border brat, yes?"

"Orphan then, my daughter now. Mine." There was a father's anger in the slurred response.

"Too bad." It was a mutter. "He should have driven her out, then she would have been ours." Attention shifted back to his victim. "Who interfered?" The question was punctuated with another needle.

"We don't know! We never found out." It was hard to answer between the gasps of agony. "We started looking. Found more missing children. Years worth."

"How many?" Pain rode the words.

"I don't know. A dozen at least. Healers. A Herald or two. Maybe. I'm not sure."

Jaek was nodding, his eyes bright with memory. "So many Healers. Not like those filthy Bards. Too hard to catch. Power too bright – no death in it. The Queen's voice is easy to silence. Not like taking a Herald or a Healer. People understand power and pain, feel it when the Queen has no remedy for those. Chip, chip, take away the bitch's power, leave it for my lady. The Lord from within, my Lady from without. Valdemar will fall and I will have my reward." The smile was ugly.

…

"Start at the beginning, tell me what you found out." Bones snapped and it was long moments before Kyminn could speak.

Over the next candlemarks, he told Jaek everything. How they had sent letters. Mapped the missing. Found the link to the caravan clan. The attempt on his family. The mercenaries and the death of Danel Frye. All of it and more.

In the end, Jaek was no longer asking questions, merely punishing his captive for his answers.


	47. Chapter 47

_After much consideration and extremely valuable input from several readers, I've substantially re-written the second part of Chapter 47._

Jaek paced the campsite, his steps jerky and unsteady. He spun back towards Kyminn, eyes wide and manic. Four days now and Kyminn's story hadn't changed. Worse yet, no Companion had appeared. Clearly, Jaek was terrified at the prospect of telling his Lady of his failure.

The agent shoved his face into Kyminn's, his words thick with hate. "You _must_ be a Herald! You have to be! This is a lie. All lies." Jaek's blood splattered hands clenched. "I _will find you_. I will bind your damn horse. It cannot resist my lady forever."

The agent stepped back, shuddering with the effort of containing his rage. "I will bring it out. I will. If you Heralds don't care about what happens to yourselves, you _will_ protect everyone else. Protect this!" Jaek twisted his hand and Kyminn could suddenly Feel Jet again. The dog stood frozen beside her forced master, fury and hunger rolling off her in waves.

Kyminn tried to cry out in denial, but his lips refused to obey. The agent plunged his knife down, pinning the dog's foot to the ground. Jet howled in pain, afraid and desperate.

Worn and weak as he was, Kyminn could only hang, sobbing as Jaek reduced the dog to a mangled, whimpering ball of fur. "Please," it felt like he'd said the word a thousand times. "I'm not a Herald. I'm sorry. Please. Just stop. Jet…please…".

The agent's incoherent scream of rage echoed through the glade as he slashed his hand down. The dog vanished in a grisly spray of blood and flesh at the same time she disappeared from Kyminn's senses.

# # #

He opened his eyes to darkness. Muzzily, he struggled to figure out if it was day or night. At one point, it had been important. Now…now though he couldn't bring himself to care or even recall why it mattered.

It had been two (or was it three?) days since Jaek had killed the dog. The next day, the agent had descended into a fit of rage and killed two of the horses, using his freakish power to twist and distort the equine bodies. Unlike the crow, these deaths seemed to bring him no pleasure but simply fueled his rage.

# # #

Jaek was storming again, rampaging through the camp, destroying everything that fell within his reach. He hadn't bothered to remove the dead animals and the glade was thick with the stench of rot.

Jaek was advancing on the last remaining horse, fingers flexing and guttural syllables hissing between his teeth. Already the horse's ears were lying flat with distress. With a garbled cry, the agent flung his hands up to his neck, dropping to his knees as he wailed in pain. He rocked there for long spans, sobbing and howling until the spasm abated. Choking, the agent crawled to his tent, retrieving the elements that would let his Lady speak.

The agent's hands were shaking as he prepared the lens and prepared to make the cut. Knife poised, Jaek's eyes narrowed and he climbed back to his feet. With a grunt of satisfaction, he slashed down across Kyminn's palm, the blade severing tendons and flesh alike.

Jaek stood underneath the wound, hands cupped like a man in a desert waiting for drops of water. This blood, Kyminn's blood, the agent poured onto the link before slashing his own hand to complete the connection.

"What is this?!" Kyminn could _feel_ the speaker's rage deep within his own flesh. "This is not a Herald!"

The agent writhed in silent agony on the ground while Kyminn hung, slumped and whimpering as someone, some _thing_ plucked through his mind, a darkness sliding into crevices of memory.

"Not a Herald. But with talents just the same. Potential in this bloodline too. This one would serve." Kyminn couldn't tell if he was hearing the voice with his ears or with his mind.

"Bring him to me." The voice promised nightmares for disobedience.

"My lady…I…" Jaek was shuddering, slowly lifting himself from his belly. "He…is too damaged to travel, I…" It was a whimper.

The silence was cold and Jaek shivered beneath the gaze of that power. Finally, she spoke again. "Bind him to me. His strength will serve me well."

Jaek shifted, fearful and trembling. "My lady…he is a man grown, fully trained and shielded. I," he licked his lips, forcing the words out in a harsh whisper, "I am not certain the bindings will suffice."

A flicker of…something, dark and deep with rage. "If he is as broken as you say, it will be sufficient."

A jerky nod and Jaek stumbled to his feet. As he sawed at the ropes holding Kyminn, each tug sent an answering wave of pain through the captive. Kyminn's vision flickered with grey as consciousness faded.

Mercifully, as the last strand parted, the grey became black.

When sight returned, Kyminn had to struggle to focus, to bring his surroundings into coherence. It took several moments for him to realize that he now lay on his back and the lines across his vision were the trunks of trees, reaching up to the dark sky.

There was still pain – oh yes, there was pain! But now it was different, shifted to new places, new ways. It was almost a relief to have a different kind of agony.

Kyminn turned his head, just enough to see where Jaek knelt beside the frame and lens. Kyminn tried to shift, to move away, only to realize that he was again bound, staked spread-eagle between the lens and fire.

Jaek knelt, eyes closed, his hands outstretched to the lens. Across his palms, a dark length of cord curled and twisted, a sinuous malignant leech. Strange, harsh words issued from the lens, sounds that were painful to hear. The voice rose in pitch, exhorting and commanding as Jaek rocked back and forth in time to the words. Jaek rocked faster, dark tendrils issuing from the cord, writhing and seeking.

In mid syllable, Jaek's eyes snapped open, the fire light reflecting a strange glitter that had nothing to do with warmth or light. The frozen tableau held for only a moment before Jaek uncoiled from his spot and knelt again at Kyminn's head. With a final, shouted command from the lens, Jaek released the cord, the unnatural device draping itself around Kyminn's neck, binding itself into a whole.

Kyminn desperately drew deep within himself, vainly trying to reinforce his shields. Only the barest flicker of strength answered, his Gifts drained and unresponsive after the days of pain and exhaustion. He could feel _something_ creeping inside his mind, a tainted mist that filled him and overwhelmed his feeble defenses.

 _Cold! So cold!_ The cord burned his neck, pulling all the heat from his body. He wept as he tried to push it away, tried to dislodge the hooks he could _feel_ it setting deep within his core, his _self_. Time hung frozen as the mist stopped and he felt a dusting of hope that he might prevail. He renewed his efforts to dislodge the _thing_ that was in his mind. An ugly sound from the lens and something in the mist shifted and Kyminn felt it waken. Felt its hunger.

His back arched as he convulsed, his throat too constricted to scream. This was worse than Zayle's death. This was having one's very _self_ torn asunder, pulled from the flesh which housed it. Kyminn tried to hold on, prevent this tearing, this destruction. It was a butterfly battling a dragon – futile flailings so feeble the dragon took no heed.

"He's resisting." The male voice came from a distance, non-sensical echoes.

"He is strong." The female voice was approving. "Strong, but broken enough. You have done well to bring me such a choice offering."


	48. Chapter 48

**_IF YOU HAVE PREVIOUSLY READ CHAPTER 47, PLEASE RE-READ BEFORE CONTINUING WITH CHAPTER 48. My apologies for the past three chapters as I struggle for a smooth and clear story line. My thanks for your patience and the valuable input of commenters._**

"My lady, I…" Jaek's voice was washed with ecstatic fervour at the words.

Kyminn never saw the white shapes that appeared from the surrounding night. There was a distant shriek and something slashed across his soul, severing the force that threatened to tear him apart. He collapsed, aware only of the darkness coiled in his mind, a sluggish bleeding that drained everything – pain, fear, love…it trickled away while he watched impassively from a distance as his _self_ bled to death.

 _::CHOSEN!::_ Derris's cry was despairing as he vaulted the fire and pivoted to place himself between the agent and his victim. _::He's dying!::_

A second white form reared, forelegs unerringly smashing the lens. A howl of rage erupted from Jaek's throat and the agent flung himself at the unburdened Companion, knife flashing in the flickering light.

With a squeal of rage, the Companion pivoted, easily avoiding the lancing blade. Bones crunched as her forefoot came down, pinning the knife – and hand – to the earth. Jaek screamed again, this time in pain as his free hand batted at the white pillar of leg. He might as easily have tried to move a marble statue.

The Companion shifted and her other foot came down, this time with less force, the bones of the forearm breaking cleanly as she pinned the other arm down. Equine teeth snapped a bare hair's breadth from the agent's face and his screams shrank to a whimper as he saw the fury in the sapphire eyes.

Randen was on the ground beside Kyminn, his gorge rising as he catalogued the Healer's wounds. "Derris?" Randen felt for a pulse and gave a prayer of thanks when he found one, sluggish and faint.

 _::The rope around his neck. It's…gods, brother it's vile. It's doing something to him. He's dying, brother.::_ Derris's voice as frantic with worry.

Randen tugged at the cord, flinching away at the burning cold. He pulled out his belt knife, trying to saw at the thing embedded in Kyminn's neck. "I can't get it! It's like it's protected somehow!" His attempts to cut the cord were futile, the blade skidding off the binding.

Derris's head came up and his head swung around to the other Companion. The two conferred for a long moment before Derris turned back to Randen.

 _::Amlee thinks that if we link with him, we might be inside the shield. If we're inside, it might let you cut that…thing.::_

"How are we going to do that? Kyminn doesn't have Mindspeech. And he can't Hear Companions with his Animal Mindspeech." Randen pressed his fingers to Kyminn's neck, reassured at the pulse that fluttered beneath his touch. Was it weaker or was that his fear speaking?

 _::We can't trigger Foresight and Empathy won't create the kind of link we need. This needs to be something that creates a channel. It has to be Healing.::_

Randen looked from Kyminn to Derris. "He hasn't got any strength left to Heal!" The protest burst from the Herald.

 _::He won't have to.::_ Derris sounded certain. _::All we need is a link. We – the three of us – will provide the strength.::_

"How…?" The pulse was definitely weaker this time. "We have to trigger his Healing Gift, don't we?" It was bleak.

 _::Yes, but not by much. You don't need to maim me.::_ Derris folded his legs and settled beside Kyminn. Randen cut the ropes binding Kyminn's limbs and did his best to straighten them. Kyminn's moans of pain were reassuring – the Healer was still capable of responding.

 _::Amlee will anchor me.::_ The other Companion nodded firmly. _::We're not sure how this…thing will react. It's possible it may come after you – or me – through the link. Amlee will anchor and shield me. I will shield you and hold the link open. Once it's established, you should be inside and able to cut that thing off him.::_

Randen nodded and opened himself up to the bond between himself and Derris. In his mind's eye, it always appeared as a glowing blue cord, stretching between them. He grasped the cord with a mental hand, opening himself to the bottomless reservoir of love and strength that was the Companion.

 _::It's alright brother, nothing you could ever do would hurt me.::_

Open as he was, there was no doubting the surety of those words. His hand didn't hesitate and Randen slashed down, driving the blade deep into Derris's shoulder. With his other hand, he gently took Kyminn's broken hand, placing it on the wound, praying that something in the Healer would respond.

 _Something flickered in Kyminn's consciousness. The narrowed flash of Foresight. Immediate and present. A warning. Blood on white._

Pain! Kyminn could _Feel_ it beneath his fingertips. Knew there was something there. Something he should do… He was an empty vessel, dry and scraped raw. Oh, he could _reach_ , could feel the pain there, but he could do nothing. He could only lie there, adrift while he bled into the darkness. Two channels – one pulling him into nothingness and another, one that should have had light and life flowing through it, lying empty and open.

"I can feel it." Randen's voice was thick with horror. "It's…blood and pain. It's unspeakable."

Derris seemed to glow and the sense of _wrongness_ retreated a bit, pushed back by a white brightness that seemed to cleanse as it advanced.

This time, the knife blade bit into the cord, although the strands seemed to slide and twist to evade the cut. A dark mist oozed from the cord, tangling and burning Randen's fingers as he sawed. Finally, with a stuttering wail in his mind, the cord parted, dropping of its own volition from around Kyminn's neck.

Randen's fingers flew back to the pulse. Stronger? Yes, definitely stronger now but still so weak! As he pressed, the glow from Derris and Amlee brightened. At the wordless question from Derris, Randen threw open his own strength, feeling the pulse strengthen and steady in response.

 _::Enough. He will live now.::_ There was a troubled undertone to the relief in Derris's mindvoice as the Companion gratefully released the link.

 _::Derris?::_ The question was silent, shared between the two of them.

 _::Later. He will be well enough for now, but…there was damage done. It can wait. For now.::_

"Randen?" It was a bare whisper. "That's twice now you've saved my life."

"And three times you've saved us," Randen's voice was rough. Kyminn could see the Herald's rage and concern in his friend's eyes.

"Jaek?"

Randen glanced at the agent, still pinned by the Companion. "Alive. Why?"

"She controls him. His neck." The words, forced out from behind the Healer's broken jaw, left Kyminn exhausted.

A wordless question to Derris and the Companion's response was grim.

 _::He has one too. I can feel it from here. His is different though. Much more powerful.::_

Randen climbed into Derris's saddle and the Companion smoothly rose to his feet. Kyminn watched as the pair moved the few paces to where Jaek lay.

Jaek was glaring at the Companion that held him, his face twisted hate. "You lying…" whether the string of vitriol that followed was directed that Kyminn or the Companion was hard to tell. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"

Randen slid out of Derris's saddle, one arm hooked on a loop of leather to help maintain his balance as he stared down at the agent. At a nod from Randen, the Companion stepped aside. Jaek curled up, wrapping himself around his broken arms and groaning with pain.

"You're going to answer some questions." The Herald's voice was cold.

Jaek's response was an unimaginative suggestion that Randen do something anatomically impossible.

 _::Derris? Can you do anything about that rope around his neck?::_

 _::No. Even if we could create a link – and I'm not sure it's wise to try – he is bound by choice. Even assuming we could get it off, it would probably kill him to do so.::_

Randen grimaced, although Derris's answer wasn't a surprise. Whatever these things were, they were far outside his experience and the closest he'd come to pure evil. It had already come close to killing Kyminn and Randen could only guess at what else it might be capable of.

"Since you have declined to be questioned…" Randen concentrated on invoking the second stage Truth Spell, the one which would compel answers.

As the spell settled around the prisoner, Jaek twisted where he sat, eyes blazing with glee. "She knows you're here." The laugh was almost maniacal. "The Lady is…Is mise searbhanta na mnà anns gach nì." His face began to turn purple and Jaek's feet kicked as his body began to writhe.

Randen shouted and leapt, fingers scrabbling at the prisoner's neck. The woven cord continued to draw tighter, digging deep into Jaek's flesh. Randen pulled out his belt knife, but already the cord was too deep. As the Herald watched, the prisoner spasmed and died.

Randen stared down at the body, shocked by the suddenness of it all. : _:Derris? Was that Hardornen? Something about a lady?::_

Derris twitched his tail with distress. _::It was. He said 'I am the lady's servant in all things.'::_

Randen shuddered. "What has Kyminn found?" It was rhetorical and he was surprised when Derris answered.

 _::Something very old and very evil.::_

# # #

Kyminn simply lay where Jaek had placed him, covered with a blanket while Randen brewed the draught which would relieve the pain.

"Randen? Who is she?" A faint nod at the Companion. She was quartering the camp along with Derris, retrieving anything that might prove needed. They had already found the remains of the last horse, strangled by its binding at the same time as Jaek.

"That's Amlee. She and her Herald, Lev, are doing their Internship with me. Lev broke his collarbone a "few days ago and can't ride. Amlee insisted on coming with us."

Lev? Why was that name familiar? Kyminn had a sudden image of a young page who had helped an uncertain Kyminn navigate his first few days at Haven.

"Evin…"

"Yes. Evin's nephew. Down to the hair." A faint smile.

"How…"

"Did we find you? Kyminn, there's probably half a dozen Heralds and Guard posts out searching for you. Well, not you in particular, but someone with very powerful Animal Mindspeech who was in desperate trouble. Draw a circle on a map and there's a zone where every bird has just disappeared, like ripples from a pond. Our Companions could only tell us that 'someone sent them', so all we could do was back track and try to find the source."

Kyminn gave a tiny nod of understanding as the world dimmed again. Randen held the cup so that Kyminn could sip the herb and poppy mixture. With a relief he didn't dare show, Randen saw the lines of pain ease a bit as Kyminn's eyes began to lose focus.

Randen straightened Kyminn's mangled hands as much as he dared, padding them well with cloth and binding the whole to splints. As he worked, he conferred with Derris. _::I don't think it's worth it to send Amlee back for help, do you?::_

Derris concurred. _::By the time she got back, and got the Guard back here, it would take too long. It's faster if we put him on a litter.::_ Derris paused to look over at Randen. _::Don't worry. I can carry you and the litter. And Amlee and I are a lot smoother than any horse or wagon. Fortunately, Amlee and Lev have good mindspeech together. As soon as we're close enough, she'll let him know.::_

Randen nodded, his face paling as he removed the last of Kyminn's shirt and saw the wounds. _::Will he…::_

Derris placed his soft nose against Randen's shoulder. _: : Live? Work as a Healer again if he does survive? I don't know. I'm no Healer. He's strong, brother.::_

Randen did his best to clean the grotesque burns on his friend's chest. Strong enough?

# # #

Quiet voices and clattering pulled him out of the nightmare and back into the daylight. A thickness to his thoughts told him that he was still under the influence of potent painkillers. He cleared his throat and tried to speak. It took a few tries before sound emerged.

"Healer Danner? Please don't speak sir." The earnest voice was unfamiliar, and the face that followed it belonged to a young Guardsman. "We've been on watch and watch with you sir, on Healer's orders. We've been told to let them know if you woke. Just you rest there sir."

Kyminn merely offered a vague nod, his thoughts drifting once again. He couldn't have said how long it was before a new face loomed over his bed. A hand protruding from a green sleeve rested gently on his forehead and his thoughts sharpened as the pain and fog was pushed back.

"Good afternoon," the Healer had the expression used for the most gravely ill patients. "How are you?"

Kyminn ignored the question. "How bad?" His voice was harsh from the days of screaming.

"Herald Randen brought you to the Guard outpost at Trevale West. You were kept there for two days before he and Herald Lev accompanied you here to the main Trevale garrison. You have been here for six days. I'm Chaddick, by the way. Herald Randen arrived yesterday with another Healer to assist me."

"How bad?" Kyminn pinned the other Healer with his gaze. Chaddick seemed unruffled.

"Bad." It was quiet and frank. "You'll recover, but not quickly, not easily and not without some permanent injury."

"Leg?" Kyminn cleared his throat, trying to ease the rasp. His tongue worked around in his mouth, prodding at the missing teeth. He noted absently that his jaw, while tender, seemed at least partly healed.

Chaddick gave a small shrug. "You will have the use of the leg, although it will be weaker than it was before. Your captor settled for breaking the leg and kneecap, injuries that didn't add much to the previous damage."

"What else?"

"Do you want the entire list?" When Kyminn nodded, the Healer began the clinical recitation, beginning with the two missing toes from Kyminn's right foot and moving upwards.

As Chaddick talked, Kyminn's mind wandered. Jaek hadn't been an effective torturer, merely a brutal one. He wouldn't miss the toes, particularly, but he was relieved to learn that – with time and attention – Chaddick expected that Kyminn's hands would largely recover. "Although you may see some impairment of nerves for very fine work."

Burns. Cuts. Pieces torn from flesh. A shattered shoulder and other bones.

Finally, Chaddick wound down the gruesome litany. "We're not sure about your voice. Between the strain from the extreme overuse and the choking, the damage to your vocal cords is severe. I'm doing my best, but…"

"S'okay." The painkillers made Kyminn's smile sloppy. "I'm a terrible singer anyway."

Chaddick cocked his head, his expression gentle. "Kyminn, I'm going to arrange for you to spend some time with a Mindhealer when you return to Haven. I don't think I have to tell you that I've only listed the visible wounds."

A feeling of _sundering_ , of darkness tearing his mind apart. Kyminn's body shuddered at the memory as sleep reclaimed him.

# # #

The next time he woke, the chair was occupied by Randen. The Herald looked weary, his whites covered by a film of road dust. Kyminn smiled faintly. One seldom saw a less-than-pristine Herald.

"Randen?"

Relief bloomed on Randen's face. "You look better, old friend."

"Where's Derris?" The harsh rasp made his voice strange to his own ears.

"Asleep after a well deserved mash. We delivered a preliminary report to a Herald Courier after we brought the second Healer."

"Jaek?"

Randen furrowed his brow. "Dead. Did you forget?"

Kyminn cast his memory back. Darkness. Pain. Hot daylight and thirst. Something oily in his mind. It was difficult to find meaning in the fragments. A faint shrug.

"Jaek – if that's his real name – died. The cord around his neck strangled him." Randen leaned forward. "Tell me." Gentle. An invitation, not a command.

Kyminn nodded and, after a sip of water, began. He started with following the amulets from Haven, along the trade road. He wasn't sure how much of the tale Randen knew, so he started from the beginning.

"The agent called himself Jaek Jacobi. I don't know if that was his real name. He thought he'd caught a Herald."

Randen blanched.

"I'm not sure who – or what he was. He could do things…strange things. He had some way of controlling animals, like the cord he used on me. He had four crows – at least at first. He used them to be his eyes, his spies. I think that's how he found my own crow was following him. During the day, he would set the birds out as sentries, but at night he couldn't. I think he could only make them act against their nature if he was directly controlling them.

"That's all he could do – give them orders to do things that were more or less natural behaviours like watching for intruders – or directly controlling them, like taking images from their minds or torturing them."

Kyminn paused, his eyes dark. "All he had to do to bind – control that is – the animals was have one of his cords touch them. Then he fastened the cords tight later. He got my horses and Jet," the Healer's voice was heavy with grief. "Then he got me. Randen, Jaek Jacobi was… a very damaged mind. Either not sane, or something worse.

"The only other time I've seen someone take that much pleasure in the pain of others was the Tedrels. The Tedrels hurt people because, well, I never did understand why. But Jaek Jacobi and this 'Lady' of his, they _liked_ pain. It almost seemed to…feed them…somehow. I know that sounds crazy, but that's what it seemed like."

Randen got the listening expression that told Kyminn the Herald was conferring with Derris and Kyminn paused. The conversation went on for a long time before Randen's attention returned.

"Derris says you're right. That there are some people who can…draw energy from…the pain and death of others. Similar in principle to how Healers can pass energy to a patient or link with each other to share strength, but not through Gifts as we know them. Derris says this…ability…is not something seen in Valdemar."

Kyminn nodded slowly. "That makes as much sense as anything else does."

"What can you tell me about this 'Lady' of his?"

"Not much. He never suggested a name for her. I can tell you that he was very much her servant. She was able to punish – and reward him – from a distance. She didn't require a device to do it, either. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any…power or skill of his own. I got the impression that everything – the cords, the lens device, the amulets – all came from her."

Randen's attention sharpened. "The amulets? You're sure?"

"Very. They spoke of them often and Jaek asked me about them many times. She wanted him to find out if we knew where they came from, how they were made. How we found them." Kyminn spasmed. "She was…unhappy…with my answers."

A warm hand on Kyminn's uninjured shoulder, a wordless offer of strength and compassion.

Randen waited until Kyminn regathered himself.

"I got the impression," Kyminn said slowly, "that she was a long way away. Something about Jaek himself made it possible for her to be present. She called him something…I can't remember what. But it seemed like he had no Gift or ability of his own, just something in him she could use. She promised to give him that ability somehow."

The Herald's brow furrowed. "You can't _give_ a person Gifts." He paused, listening. Then, "You're right." It wasn't directed at Kyminn.

"Derris reminds me that all Gifts start as potential. Some emerge, some never do. I suspect she promised him she could force his Gifts to emerge. I'm not sure how, it usually takes significant psychic trauma. Although," it was grim, "inflicting trauma was clearly not something she shirked."

Something clarified in Kyminn's memory. "She was going to use a Companion."

"What?!"

"She…her binding…she could…feed…draw off…a person's…I don't know how to describe it." Tears leaked unheeded from the prone Healer's eyes. "Like sucking out all your feelings, your life, your very self... She wanted to do that to a Companion. Said it would give her enough strength to do what she was planning."

Kyminn's splinted hands were held immobile by wraps and bandages. Randen took a square of clean linen and gently wiped Kyminn's cheeks, the Herald's face set with anger and distress. "Kyminn…" His jaw worked, struggling to regain his equilibrium.

"Not your fault I'm not a Herald." The smile was watery. "I always said I never wanted to be one. Jaek was sure at first that I was one. He was trying to draw out my Companion."

Randen closed his eyes. _::Derris?::_ Suddenly he craved that reminder of his Companion's love and support.

 _::I'm here. Always here.::_ Warmth reverberated through the bond.

 _::Could she have? Used that…abomination…on a Companion?::_

Derris's answer was slow. _::Perhaps. Not in the way she would have expected – not like she would bind an animal. As for the rest…under certain conditions, yes. If she were strong enough, she could exert a kind of binding on one of us.::_

 _::What do you mean, a 'kind of binding'?::_

Randen could feel the anger in Derris's answer. _::Were she – or someone of her ilk – powerful enough, then yes, they could create a binding that would impair our physical bodies. Not control – but confine. As for drawing off_ what _we are for her own purposes, for her own use…no. We are…incompatible with evil. It would be like someone trying to drink lightning.::_

 _::And?::_

 _::And they would die.::_ His tone was grimly satisfied. _::So, in all likelihood, would the Companion.::_ This last was quieter, accepting of the price.

Randen sighed at the expected response. He allowed himself to savour a moment of relief that that sacrifice had not been required, a moment quickly overshadowed with regret at the steep cost that Kyminn _had_ paid.

"Kyminn, I'm not sure if anyone in the Circle will ever remember to say this, but...gods we're sorry."

That wobbly smile again. "Not entirely the Circle's fault. There's plenty of blame to spread around. In hindsight, it was not a particularly well conceived plan. I'm _not_ a Herald, nor am I well equipped to defend myself. At the time, it seemed so simple; 'Follow and watch'. We were all so dreadfully wrong."

"And with little to show for it, while nearly costing you everything."

"Not so little," Kyminn reminded him. "The amulets are finished. Now that she knows we're aware of them, she can't use them any more. That's something."

"Yesss…" the drawn out response was reluctant, "but what else does she have up her sleeve?"

Kyminn frowned. "You know, I don't know for sure, but I _think_ ," he emphasized the word, "That she is limited in what she can do. I don't think she can work directly, something prevents her. She has to work through local agents and I think we just cost her a significant asset."

The Herald grimaced. "And we don't know who her local agents are."

"No…" a memory resurfaced. "But she did say something about the Privy Council."

Randen stiffened. "She WHAT?!"

"Something she said…'What the Privy Council knows, the Heralds know' – or something like that."

Randen's face matched his whites. "So close to the crown…"

"And the heir." Kyminn's voice was bleak. "She said something about the heir – 'There's still the heir'."

Randen's attention turned inwards for a moment, then "I'll be right back. Then you're going to tell me everything you remember about what you heard while I write it down. First thing in the morning, Derris and I will be leaving to find the closest Herald Courier."

# # #

True to his word, Randen and Derris disappeared the next morning. Lev took Randen's place with Kyminn, keeping a careful record of Kyminn's recollections. For the next several days, Kyminn's world consisted of sessions with the Healers, sessions with Lev and sleep.

Only the fact that it was sleep forced on his body by the Healing gave him rest. Left alone, to doze off from simple tiredness, _that_ sleep was a series of nightmares – snakes that ate his mind and every food he tried to taste was poison. From _that_ sleep, he woke crying and choking, shuddering in the dark.

Always at these times, one of the Healers would come, a gentle touch or cool draught to push away the fear. They took to leaving a lantern half-open in his room – not for their sake, but for his.

He couldn't hide the nightmares and, after his experience with Zayle's death, knew better than to try. It did not, however, prevent the arguments between Healers and patient as Kyminn fought the very notion of sleep.

They were still battling a fortnight later when Randen returned.


	49. Chapter 49

"Still a difficult patient, or so I hear." The Herald let only a hint of disapproval creep into his tone. He settled into the chair beside Kyminn's sick bed. That Kyminn sported fewer splints and bandages, along with being able to sit propped up, was an encouraging sign. Less encouraging were the dark circles beneath the Healer's eyes.

A flicker of smile in acknowledgement while bandaged hands vainly plucked at the blanket. "It's not…Randen, I've been down this road before. I don't want to make the same mistake as last time…"

"That's good to know." Blunt.

The flicker again. "I know I have to rest. I know my body can't rely on sleeping drugs, or a healing sleep. I _know_ my mind has to rest naturally for me to recover. I _want_ to sleep. I _want_ to recover. I…I try, Randen, I swear I do. It's just…there are things in my mind…things that…" he trailed off.

"We are going to get you to a Mindhealer." Gentle. Sympathetic.

"I know." Quiet.

Randen released a deep breath. "I spoke with your Healers. At the moment, it's a matter of competing priorities. The closest Mindhealer is back in Haven. You need to be recovered enough from your injuries to make the journey. But the more time spent letting your body recover means…"

"More time for the rest of me to deteriorate." Kyminn interrupted. "I know. I also know that I'm not well enough to judge my mental state right now."

"Precisely. As well as that, your Healers can't stay hear indefinitely either. Their posts are unattended and they're needed."

Kyminn nodded in understanding. "So?"

"So, I'm told that you will be moved sooner, rather than later. The focus on the next few days will be making sure you can manage with your hands. You'll travel by wagon – as cargo, I'm afraid – nothing fancy – and stay at inns, Healing posts or Guard posts. Preferably the last two. A protection detail will accompany you, just in case. Once you get to within a couple of weeks from Haven, you'll be met by a team from Healer's and be handed off to them."

A part of Kyminn wondered if the protection detail was intended to guard from an external threat or to protect Kyminn – or others - from himself. He decided he didn't want to know the answer to that.

"Any questions?" Randen quirked an eyebrow.

Kyminn hesitated. "Has anyone told Cydris?" He wasn't sure what, exactly, he wanted her to know. That he had been hurt certainly. How badly was something else. Her response as a Healer would be different from her response as a spouse. He didn't want to mislead her, but he wasn't sure how to inform the Healer without hurting the spouse.

Randen nodded. "Your Circle got a full report." There was an emphasis on the word 'full'. "I also wrote a personal note to Cydris. I sent it to Tannel and asked him to read it first before he gave it to her."

This time the smile was more genuine. Tannel would make sure that she had whatever she needed. "Thank you."

Randen nodded in acceptance. "Is there anything you need?"

Kyminn glanced around the room hesitantly, his expression awkward. "Actually, yes. I would really like to be able to go outside, if that's possible." He coloured faintly. "I know it's a nuisance since I still can't walk, but honestly Randen, it would feel good to feel the sun on my face."

Randen regarded Kyminn steadily for a moment, assessing. They both knew that the Herald was debating not so much as whether there was an ulterior motive behind the request but whether it posed a risk.

 _::I'll keep an eye on him. If it looks like he's planning on doing something stupid, I'll make sure it doesn't happen.::_

Randen hid the smile that Derris's comment evoked. _::Thank you for offering to babysit.::_

Out loud, he said simply, "As long as it's alright with your Healers, I think it's a fine idea."

# # #

The Healers agreed wholeheartedly with the notion, with a few additions.

"We'll arrange it for midafternoon," Chaddick stated. "He'll be tired after the morning session and will sleep at least until the noon meal. We'll do another session afterwards. He doesn't usually nap after that session – although he should. Outside in the shade with the warmth…hopefully that will make him doze off on his own. Maybe," Chaddick shrugged, "maybe the daylight will help with the nightmares."

They found a spot a little way away from the beaten dust of the buildings, under the shade of a spreading birch. Derris and Amlee grazed nearby, silent company while Kyminn was propped up in a padded seat.

Kyminn watched the two Companions, wondering why his hands were suddenly trembling.

"Derris." It was barely a whisper. A plea.

The stallion's head came up, as did Amlee's. After a second, she nodded and stepped back – close, but out of earshot.

Derris flicked an ear in question.

"I…can you…" Kyminn fumbled the words, his eyes fixed on his shaking hands.

Warm, grass scented breath ruffled his hair. Derris's approach had been silent. Blue eyes regarded Kyminn patiently.

"You…Companions can tell…is there evil in me?" The harsh whisper was thick with anguish.

A nose nudged him, hard. Derris locked eyes with Kyminn as the Companion shook his head emphatically. Another nudge, gentler this time, this one reassuring.

"But I can _feel_ it still. I feel…tainted. Whenever I sleep it feels like it's creeping up on me. I feel like my soul is…ugly, full of poison."

Derris pressed his head against Kyminn's chest for another moment before stepping back. The Companion looked away and Kyminn followed the glance. Randen was making his way towards them.

The Herald settled on the ground beside Kyminn. "Derris says you want to talk."

"I…"

"He says you were damaged in the attack."

A wordless cry and Kyminn's eyes filled with tears.

"But you're not evil, Kyminn. He would know."

"But I can _feel_ it, feel something there. Am I going crazy?"

Two heads shook.

"No. You do feel something. You feel the injury done to you. It is like any other injury Kyminn. With the right care, it will heal."

"When I sleep, it feels like the evil is taking over my mind." Tears ran down Kyminn's cheeks. "I wake up afraid that that's who I am, what I've become."

"You have scars, Kyminn." Randen's voice was gentle. "And you always will. Derris says that the evil was done _TO_ you but is not a part _OF_ you. You don't have to be afraid of who you are."

Kyminn buried his face in the Companion's scarred shoulder and wept.

# # #

It would have been nice, Randen reflected, if the conversation had resolved Kyminn's problems. He swung his truncated leg over Derris's back and the Companion rose smoothly as the Herald settled into his seat.

 _::Give him time, Chosen. He still has a lot of healing to do.::_

 _::I know. I just hoped that this would help.::_

Derris glanced back at the Herald. _::It did. Chaddick says the nightmares will likely continue until they get him to a Mindhealer but that he's not obsessing any more.::_

 _::He's still not sleeping::_ Randen looked over at Lev and Amlee, who nodded in unison to indicate their readiness. The four of them were overdue to resume their interrupted Circuit.

 _::Actually he is, somewhat. Not well, I'll grant you, but when he wakes up, he can put what he experienced in perspective now. He'll be alright. You'll see.::_ Derris sounded so confident that Randen didn't bother arguing.

# # #

The sky was starting to reflect the darker blues of early autumn by the time Kyminn saw Haven again. The Mindhealer Crathach had met them three weeks before when the Guard had formally turned Kyminn's case over. Crathach had insisted on remaining in place for a full sennight before agreeing that Kyminn was well enough to resume travel. Their trip had been slow, marked by regular sessions of therapy and Healing.

An advantage to the slow journey was that Kyminn's physical injuries had had ample time to heal. While he bore a host of new scars, both visible and not, he was well once again.

Instead of entering the city directly, they skirted the outer walls, circling until they fetched up on the road that paralleled the river. This would be, as Crathach explained, the final phase of Kyminn's recovery.

"You and I both know that the moment you set foot inside the walls, you'll be besieged. 'Just a quick question', or 'Can you let me a hand just for a moment'. Plus the expected well wishers and the unavoidable intrusive questions." Crathach had let that sink in for a moment until Kyminn had nodded in reluctant understanding.

"So?" Kyminn glanced over at the other Healer.

"So, you need a moment to breathe. More importantly, you and Cydris need some time to talk without interruption or distraction. You both need the strength and support of the other and, speaking as your Healer, I'm prescribing a few days of just the two of you."

"Thank you."

# # #

A mere three candlemarks ride from the city, Heron House was a guest house set along the river banks, perfectly positioned on a scenic slope where the Terilee widened and slowed. From the porch of the main inn, or one of the private cottages dotting the grounds, one could watch the sun set over the river and bask in the illusion of perfect seclusion.

"Kyminn!" As Cydris's arms folded around him, Kyminn felt something within him shift and settle. This. _This_ feeling, this was home.

# # #

For four days they seldom left the cottage save for short walks along the sheltered pathways. He told her everything – the journey, the pursuit, Jaek Jacobi.

He watched as she absorbed all that Randen's note hadn't been able to convey. Calmed her prodigious fury at what had been done to him, held her as she grieved over his injuries.

"Never again." Her hands held his in a painful grip. "To hell with all of them. They had no right asking you to take this on. No right to put you to such risk. To put you through all this."

His smile was pained. "Love…they don't bear all the blame…".

"They bear more than enough. _They're_ the Heralds. _They're_ the ones trained for all this, the ones who should have thought this through."

He sighed and nodded, gently tugging until her hands relaxed their clench. "I know. And I don't disagree. But when I step back…it's just sort of an evolution on everything that's happened over the past several years. Bit by bit over time…first just gathering information here and there, then the levy…this and that over time…Love, this was just one more thing. You and I were both committed to finding out what was happening, both knew there was risk."

"But this…" her tone was still truculent, still determined.

"Was more than I bargained for. Was FAR more than I was prepared for. If you're going to cast blame, you have to throw some my way – I was as short-sighted as everyone else."

"But no more." This time, it was a plea.

"No more. I promise. I'm done." He raised their joined hands and kissed hers to seal the promise.

"Is it? Done, I mean?"

"My – our part – is at any rate. A…very senior…Herald met up with us just before we arrived here at Heron House. The Heralds will continue to pursue some final questions, but Group X seems to have unravelled. The…my visitor…confirmed that the amulets we have are now inert. Heralds with various Gifts have examined them and get nothing. The amulets have been destroyed, just in case.

"The funds paid through the Carters Guild came to a dead end, although one of the brokers did have distant ties to Hardorn. He, along with the drayage teams, disappeared before they could be questioned. Reports have them crossing the border twice – once to Rethwellan and once to Hardorn. Obviously, it means no one has any clue of where they actually are. Or who they actually were. Regardless, the Guard and Heralds know to watch for them. I daresay they won't be back."

"What about the Privy Council? And the Heir?" Cydris was troubled.

"The Heralds are responsible for protecting Princess Elspeth. I got the impression that they will be making some changes to their security arrangements, but, understandably, those changes weren't discussed with me. As for the Privy Council…that is very much up to the Heralds. To be honest, I don't think there's much they can do. I have absolutely no proof to offer and there's not nearly enough grounds to line them all up and Truth Spell them."

She nodded once, reluctantly. "What if it's _not_ over? What if Group X shows their hand again?"

"Then, my dear, the Heralds will handle it. This has implications far beyond just our Circle and it's now in the hands of those with the tools to see to it."

"What are we going to do now?" She shifted and curled up beside him.

"You are going to tell me what the children are up do. And then tomorrow or the next day, we are going to go home. You will teach and Heal and I, I will train, and Heal, and maybe teach a little. Who knows, maybe I'll even write another book."

"Home?"

"Home. Together. To stay."


	50. Chapter 50

Epilogue

Kyminn hummed tunelessly as he held the carrot up the light. These were the last of last winter's crop and it would require judicious trimming to find the edible parts. Still, there would be enough to add a bit of colour to the spring salad he was preparing. The trimmings would go into the compost heap where they would return to the kitchen garden in time.

"Cellen! Would you please fetch some greens for the salad? Lettuce and such!?"

"Aye!" Cellen's cheerful bellow made Kyminn smile and he returned to his carrots.

"Hello the house!" The familiar voice deepened Kyminn's smile into a grin.

"Randen! Just in time as always. Have a seat!" Kyminn waved at the kitchen chairs.

Randen flourished the bottle of wine he was carrying as he sat down. Heralds seldom had friends outside their own Circle and Kyminn counted himself lucky that their friendship had endured for more than two decades.

"So?" Randen popped the cork and poured them both a glass. "Cydris working?" He gestured to where only three places were set at the table.

Kyminn limped over to the table. Walking had become more difficult after the incident with Jaek Jacobi, but he'd long since adapted to the change.

"No," Kyminn took a sip, eyebrows climbing at the smooth vintage. "She's visiting Renya. This pregnancy is twins and now that Ren is close to being due, she's having a hard time. Cydris went up to help mind their oldest and help out. She'll stay for the birth and a month or so afterwards."

Randen grinned. "Have you forgiven Renya yet for marrying a Bard?"

Kyminn pretended to glare. "You should know. You were at the wedding." But he relented and added, "I admit I had misgivings. My track record with Bards could use some work. But Alwin is a good man and he adores Ren. I've no complaints. Besides," the smile was warm, "They do make adorable grandbabies!"

Their joined laughter pealed through the cottage.

"Da, Herald Randen", Cellen bounced into the room, brimming with the exhausting vigour of youth. At thirteen, he was nearly as tall as his mother already. "I washed the greens. Did you want some spring onions as well?" At Kyminn's grateful nod, the youth plunked the dripping greens in front of his father and dashed back out the door.

"Ah, youth." Randen took a slow sip. "Tell me, were we ever so energetic?"

There was a distinctly equine snort from outside the kitchen window and Randen nearly choked on his wine.

"I'm willing to bet Derris just listed a few of your more energetic youthful indiscretions." Kyminn was grinning.

Randen said nothing and pretended to busy himself with cleaning up splattered wine.

Kyminn's smile faded as he watched the Herald. Last fall, Eiven had – with Randen's permission – quietly shared with Kyminn that the Healers had detected a mass in the Herald's chest. Slow growing, it was nonetheless untreatable. No one spoke of it, but all of them knew that this would, in all likelihood, mark Randen's last summer.

"Da? May I give Derris his tarts?" Cellen added the onions to the salad mix. At Kyminn's nod of permission, Cellen made a beeline for the plate of apple tarts. Kyminn had found a good use for the last of the winter apples.

Derris was more than happy to claim his share of the bounty, head reaching in through the open shutters to join the conversation.

As the three men savoured the spring salad and roast chicken, the conversation moved to more general topics. Kyminn caught Randen up on the doings of the family. Ansen was accompanying a diplomatic mission to Rethwellan while Mehret, now a Master Artificer, was working on a project to upgrade the city's aquifers. Niyeh, an indifferent student at best, instead proved to have an artistic bent. She was currently worked doing fine embellishments for dresses and dabbled in pen and ink drawings. Judging from the determined attention she was receiving from a young tailor, Kyminn fully expected they would be posting banns in the near future.

Kyminn and Cydris had insisted that Cellen take advantage of the classes available and the youngster had a solid basic education. He would never be brilliant, but he attacked his studies with the same determination and focus that marked all his endeavors. Only the fact that his intensity was paired with cheerful good humour saved him from Delassia-like eccentricity.

"…Anyway, Da says he thinks he can arrange for more equitation classes this year. If I'm going to join the cavalry, I'll need more weapons training, but we still need to find an instructor. I'd like to study under Herald Alberich, but its more important that he train the Heralds. Maybe in a few years I'll be good enough to take classes from him."

Cellen glanced from his father to Randen. "May I be excused from the table please? If you would like to visit, I can do the dishes."

"Thank you Cellen, that's thoughtful of you." Healer and Herald made their slow way to the front room while dishes clattered cheerfully in the kitchen behind them.

"He's a good lad." Randen settled into the overstuffed chair.

"He is. They're all good children. We consider ourselves very fortunate."

Randen raised a glass in salute. "Indeed. And by the way, I realize this was some time ago, but I forgot to congratulate you on your appointment. Senior Healer, Companions. Derris says the Companions approve."

"Thank Derris for me." Kyminn smiled. "Although Delassia is supposedly retired, I don't expect she'll put aside her greens any time soon. I…"

"DA! Companion coming!" Cellen's shout broke in to what Kyminn had been about to say.

"Injured?" Kyminn was already climbing to his feet.

"No, I don't think so. Let me ask…" Cellen's voice was fading as he stepped outside to greet the visitor.

Randen hadn't moved. "Kyminn."

The Healer turned and glanced at the Herald. "What does Derris…" something about his friend's face made him pause.

Slowly, Kyminn made his way through to the front door. The spring evening was just cool enough to have a faint bite, but he didn't register the sensation.

The evening sun had washed them both in gold, the boy and the Companion standing together, oblivious to everything except each other. If joy could be distilled, it was here and now, in this moment.

"His name is Lancri." Randen spoke quietly, for Kyminn's ears only. "Lorenil's last born."

"You knew?" Kyminn's voice was rougher than usual.

"No. Not until just now." A hand squeezed Kyminn's shoulder and the friends each blinked back emotion.

Past. Present. Future.


End file.
